Another Piece of the Action
by pat weakley
Summary: Green Hornet/Classic Trek Crossover. In the late 60's the Green Hornet and Kato were abducted by a UFO. Centuries later they are found by the Starship Enterprise. Together with Captain Kirk and his crew they must prove that a new gang on Iotia is backed b
1. Another Piece of the Action

Another Piece of the Action 26

_**Another challenge for the Green Hornet, his aide Kato, and their rolling arsenal the Black Beauty! **_

**Another Piece of the Action**

**Prologue**

It was one of those clear nights when the stars seemed to fill the sky from horizon to horizon. They glittered cool and hard in the chill night air. One star detached itself from the heavens and began falling to the earth. Suddenly it made a right hand turn.

The black car stopped without warning. No matter how much the starter grinded, the big engine under the long hood refused to turn over. The driver, a trim young man in a black chauffeur's uniform climbed out, raised the hood and bent down to check the engine. After several long minutes, the passenger, a tall man in a dark green overcoat joined the chauffeur under the hood. No amount of tinkering could bring the car back to life. The distasteful idea of calling for a ride back into town was increasingly becoming a definite possibility.

Suddenly overhead a brilliant light stabbed out, impaling the two men and the disabled vehicle, bleaching them into ghosts in shades of white and grey. A moment later the road was empty of men and car as if they had never existed.

**Chapter One**

**The Sleepers**

I

"_Captain's personal log, Stardate 6667.9. We are en route to the Sigma Iotia system and are expecting to reach Sigma Iotia II in a few days. This is primarily a showing of the flag by visiting many of the planets that were introduced to the Federation through our explorations. It is interesting to see the changes that have happened in these five years of our mission. I am heartened to see that most of these changes have been for the better. I am looking forward to seeing whether or not the Federation contingent has been successful in helping the people of Iotia develop a more representative form of government than the chaotic mob run one that was present on our first visit. _

_At the end of the Enterprise's five year mission I am finding myself both excited by the challenges that will be brought about by my promotion to the Admiralty and saddened by fact that all too soon our tightly knit group will be broken up. No matter how much we may try, things will never be the same again."_

"What is it?" Captain Kirk asked, watching a slender disc shape appear on the viewscreen. It was nearly invisible in the empty space between star systems. The disk's dark gray surface was pitted from innumerable meteorite strikes. As it slowly rotated on the screen, a dark jagged hole in its side became visible.

Mr. Spock straightened from over the science station. "Sensors show that it is a space vessel. Its conformation doesn't match any known ship, either Federation or non-Federation."

"It looks old," Kirk remarked.

"Without more information, I cannot say exactly how old it is, but the sensors indicate that it is approximately 300 years old."

Kirk watched the derelict for a few moments. They were due in to Iotia in a few days, but there wasn't any real rush. A day or so late shouldn't make a big difference. They could always make up any lost time by flying at a higher warp speed.

"Mr. Spock, notify Dr. McCoy to meet us in the transporter room in EVA gear in half an hour," he ordered.

Mr. Spock's slanted eyebrows rose in an unspoken question.

Kirk smiled, mischief gleaming in his hazel eyes. "I've always wanted to see what was inside a flying saucer."

Dr. McCoy clomped into the transporter room in a pair of heavy magnetic space boots. Like Kirk and Spock who were already there he was wearing a full EVA suit of silver metallic material. He held a heavy helmet under his arm. "Bad enough to go beaming in and out of places," he grumped, "but to have to wear a damn space suit as well . . . "

"An EVA suit is what is required in an airless vacuum, doctor," Mr. Spock remarked dryly.

"I know, but you would think they could manage to make these damn things a tad more comfortable, you know. Not that I can see any reason why I'm needed to explore some ancient derelict. It's not like there's going to be anybody, or anything that's going to be in need of my medical care."

"Perhaps doctor, that will be a point in their favor," Spock replied.

Kirk smiled to himself as he watched McCoy pull the helmet over his scowling face. He nodded to the transporter chief. Moments later the bright lights of the transporter room had been replaced by the freezing night within the derelict.

The beam of his flash joined those of Spock and McCoy. "I wonder what happened," he said. Odd shapes appeared then disappeared out of the darkness as the light passed over them. "It looks like we might be in their command center."

"Could be the galley for all I can tell," Dr. McCoy muttered. "Anything that was loose was blown out when it decompressed. It'll take a science survey team weeks to figure out what we have here."

"Captain," Mr. Spock said, frowning over his tricorder. "I seem to be picking up life signs."

"You're kidding," McCoy said, activating his own tricorder.

Spock glanced at the doctor, the raising of his eyebrows barely visible through his helmet's faceplate.

"Sorry. I forgot," McCoy said drily. "Vulcans never kid." He checked the readings in his tricorder, shook it a moment, then checked the readings again. "Spock's right. I'm picking up life signs too. They're too faint for me to tell what they might be though."

"From what direction?" Kirk asked.

"That'a way," McCoy answered, leading the way.

Through a maze of ramps and access tubes the three men wandered through the ancient ship. Occasionally Spock would stop, examine pieces of equipment with his tricorder, then with a grunt and a raised eyebrow continue on, following the tantalizing signal.

"What do you think?" Kirk asked him.

"There is not enough data yet, but much of the material we are encountering are containers of specimens from different planets. Much of it appears to be either plants or animals."

"Collectors for some kind of interplanetary zoo?" Kirk asked.

"There is not enough data to support that theory in the positive or the negative," Spock replied.

"I think I've found what we're looking for," interrupted McCoy from a few feet away from them.

"What is it?" Kirk asked, quickly coming to the doctor's side.

"Human, looks like."

"Human or humanoid?" Kirk asked, trying to peer through one of the two black pods that the doctor was running his tricorder over. Through the barely translucent surface he could see a body floating or imbedded on some kind of clear substance.

"Human, at least according to the readings. Everything's on the money for Earth-type. There's no evidence of the genetic drift you'd find in modern Earth colonies either."

"What about the other one?" Kirk asked, passing his flash's beam over the pod behind the doctor.

McCoy passed his tricorder's handset over it. "Same thing. Pure Earth-type human."

"Alive?"

McCoy nodded. "Yes. They're both in stasis."

"Suspended animation," Kirk murmured. "This isn't an Earth sleeper ship, is it?"

"No," Spock responded, joining the two men. "This ship is not of any known Earth type, modern or historical. It is also not of any planet that we know of. I believe I may have found the remains of one of the crew."

The three men knelt near a severely desiccated form wedged between some specimen crates. It had become mummified in the cold vacuum of space but its delicate frame was still evident, if not more so. Its wide mouth was a lipless slit beneath two slashes of nostrils and two huge empty orbits. No hair was visible on the triangular skull and the ears were mere holes on either side of the head. A silver body suit covered the figure's body including the long, thin legs and arms. Very long delicate fingers were splayed out, reaching, in its final moments of death.

"Do you think it might be one of the 'specimens' that got loose in the collision?" Kirk asked.

"I doubt it," Spock answered. "All of the specimen crates are securely fastened. I have not found any evidence of any of them having been breached. I also believe that the facilities that we have seen of this craft would be consist with a crew of a similar conformation."

"I think he means that this guy is probably one of the 'zoo keepers'," McCoy commented wryly.

"Doctor," Spock responded, "I do not think that the term 'zoo keeper' would be a valid name for this species."

Kirk shook his head, "Whatever, or whoever they might be can be argued about later. I'm more interested in if either of you can pick up any other life signs besides these two."

McCoy frowned over his tricorder, "Nope."

Spock made a few adjustments to his tricorder, "I concur."

"Well, glad to see you two can agree on something." Kirk flipped out his communicator. "We'll beam these two up and send in science survey crew to do a quick check to see what else we should take with us before we leave."

II

Captain Kirk glanced up from the duty roster he was going over. "Okay, Mr. Scott, did the landing party find anything interesting?"

The chief engineer's brown eyes glimmered with barely restrained delight, "Aye Captain, I have," he said in a warm Scottish brogue. "I envy the crew Starfleet will be sending out to examine the derelict. It'll take years to pry out all of her secrets." His smile broadened. "I have found meself a wee souvenir to take with us though."

"Oh? What kind of 'wee' souvenir?"

"An automobile."

"An automobile?" Kirk echoed, remembering with distaste his last experience with the recalcitrant mechanical beast the last time they were on Iotia.

"Aye, and she's a beauty too. Black as space itself and bigger than an Altairian royal van. I can't wait until I can get my hands on its internal combustion engine. I hope I can get it to run."

"Maybe our guests can help out with that," Doctor McCoy said, joining Scott beside Kirk's command chair.

"Are you seriously thinking of reviving them? I'd really rather not have another Khan on my hands if you don't mind," Kirk commented uneasily.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. While they're both fine specimens physically, they're nowhere the supermen that Khan and his crew were. Besides there's only the two of them."

"If you don't mind Doctor, I'd rather wait until we got into a Starbase until we wake them up. Besides, don't you think it might be better if we had a crew of psychologists and sociologists to help them deal with the shock of waking up after 300 years?"

"Normally I'd agree with you, Jim, but I don't think we're going to get the choice."

"Why's that? Do you think there's a chance we might lose them?"

"Hopefully nothing that drastic. At least I hope not, it's just I'm not crazy about the readings I'm getting on them. It could be a normal part of the suspended animation process that was used, but I'd like to be prepared if we have to wake them up."

"Okay, well, keep on an eye on the vitals and let me know if there's any change."

"I'll do that, but there's one other thing . . . " McCoy hesitated.

Catching the worry in the doctor's gruff voice, Kirk frowned. "I take it there's another reason you want to wake up our sleepers before we reach a Starbase?"

McCoy nodded. "Yeah, Crispin's heard about them and he's sounding real interested in them."

"How'd he hear about them?" Kirk growled.

"Our dear Ms Alicia Meyers told him about them. She told me that they're thinking that we should drop the Iotia run and head back to Starfleet headquarters in 'Frisco."

Kirk cursed under his breath. "Dammit, having that woman on board is almost as bad as if Crispin himself was on board."

"I know what you mean. If there's one thing I hate, it's politicians. Crispin's been making a lot of noise about taking Earth out of the Federation ever since he became one of Earth's representatives to the council."

Kirk nodded his agreement. "Crispin's out to prove that being in the Federation does Earth a lot more harm than good."

"And that's why he sent our dear Ms Meyers on this little fact-finding mission of hers. He's hoping she'll show that Starfleet, and the Federation along with it are nothing but an expensive waste," McCoy said, finishing Kirk's thought.

Kirk sighed, "So how do you thing our sleeper's might fit into Crispin's plans?"

"Damned if I know," the doctor admitted, "But I'm tending to think that whatever Crispin or Ms Meyers have in mind I'm going to do the exact opposite."

"So you're thinking it might be a good idea to wake them up now?"

"Tell me what would you prefer if you just woke up after 300 years of suspended animation. Waking up in a nice cozy starship like the Enterprise or waking up surrounded by politicians and publicists?"

Kirk grimaced at the thought. "All right, Bones, I see your point." He glanced at the chief engineer who had been listening silently to their conversation. "I take it Mr. Scott, you would enjoy meeting these men from the past as well?"

Scott grinned, "Aye Captain, anything that would put a bind in Mr. Crispin's knickers, I would."

"Mr. Spock," Kirk turned in his chair to address the Vulcan who was bent over his science station, "I take it you've heard our conversation."

"I have, Captain," Spock said, straightening to face Kirk.

"Do you agree with Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott, here?"

"I do captain. I believe that it would be far better if those two men were awakened under the controlled conditions that the Enterprise could afford them. Even though I do have severe doubts about the good Doctor being the first person of our era to greet them, it would be far preferable to what they would encounter if they were returned to Earth and put into the hands of those who support Mr. Crispin's agenda."

"I think he means yes," McCoy growled.

Spock's right eyebrow rose. "I believe I did speak in the affirmative," he said.

"Man can't even use one word to say yes," McCoy muttered.

"Okay, gentlemen," Kirk broke in, "Mr. Spock, I want you to work with Dr. McCoy to find a way to wake up our sleepers. I also want you to have some people research the era these men might have come from as well as a psych-team to help them through the transition once we do wake them up. Mr. Scott, give whatever help Mr. Spock or Dr. McCoy needs. I also want you to work on that automobile."

Scott's grin widened, "Aye, Captain, that I will do."

"Mr. Scott, I want you to see if there's anything about it that can give us a clue about who our sleepers will be. Find out what kind of vehicle it might be and who would most likely use it. Anything that will give us a handle on how to best deal with them when they wake up."

Scott's grin dimmed, "Can I still see if I can make her run?"

"Yes, Mr. Scott, you may, just as long as you do not wind up tearing around the shuttle bay with it."

"Aye, Captain, you can count on me," Scott said, his grin returning as he headed for the turbo-lift.

"I think I'll get to work too," McCoy said starting for the turbo-lift.

"I shall join you as well, Doctor," Spock said, following McCoy.

Kirk heard the hiss of the turbo-lift as it closed behind him. At least now he had everybody occupied and could get back to running his ship in peace.

III

It was a few days before the call came, but when it did Kirk found that besides the medical staff, Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock, Alicia Meyers was waiting for him in sickbay. There was no doubt the Alicia was a beautiful woman, no matter what planet you hailed from. The long blue silk dress she wore flowed over her slender figure like a waterfall. The two long slits that extended up past her hips showed soft turquoise linen leggings that complemented the curves of her impossibly long legs. Honey-colored hair hung behind her back in a thick braid entwined with strands of fresh-water pearls.

Despite himself, Kirk recalled how soft her unbound hair was when it had covered Alicia and himself during their lovemaking. She had come to his cabin several times until she had discovered that Kirk was content to remain in Starfleet and had no desire to further her political ambitions. Then she had stopped coming and had started on the rest of the command crew. She went through most of the Enterprise's officers in a similar fashion, finding none of them powerful enough or interesting enough to keep her attention for very long. She had even dallied with Dr. McCoy, until she had found out that his simple country doctor demeanor was genuine and not a cynical facade.

The only one Alicia did not approach was Mr. Spock, although Kirk wondered whether it was more to the fact that even she found his cold exterior far too frigid to melt, than to the fact that the pure-Earth movement would have frowned on sex with a half-Vulcan. Kirk had finally put a stop to it when he found Chekhov and Sulu at each other's throats over her.

"Good morning Captain," she murmured seductively as she moved gracefully to his side. It was quite a change after weeks of icy avoidance. Kirk wondered whether she thought sharing a bed with an unambitious Starfleet officer was better than sleeping in an empty one.

He noticed that she held a tiny holo- recorder in her delicate hands. "Ready to transmit our sleepers' first words to your boss?" he asked, a charming smile hiding the bite of his words.

An equally charming smile met his. "All of Earth should hear them. Not just an elite few on a starship."

"I don't know if their words are going to be very memorable," Dr. McCoy said breaking up the electrical moment. "These men have been asleep for around 300 years and encased in an organic goo to boot. I know if I wouldn't be up to making any speeches under the same circumstances."

"Captain," Spock said, "It might not be advisable for non-essential personnel to be present during this procedure."

"Are you suggesting that I should leave, Mr. Spock?" Alicia asked archly.

"I am merely suggesting that too many people may add to what will already be a stressful situation."

"Then surely, Mr. Spock, you should not be here either. Since I'm sure these men have never seen a Vulcan before, I would think that seeing an alien for the first time would be extremely stressful."

Spock nodded his agreement, "That is a logical assumption, however it is incorrect in this situation. As the Science Officer of the Enterprise, it is my duty to be present in order to observe the procedure as it is being conducted. I will, of course, take the necessary precautions so as to not alarm or add further stress to the subjects when they become conscious. You, Ms Meyers, I'm afraid would not be able to escape the subjects' notice."

"That's for damn sure," Dr. McCoy muttered under his breath.

Alicia glared sharply at the doctor.

"I'm sure Ms Meyers," Kirk quickly interrupted before she could say anything, "Will be content to observe from the sidelines and not get involved in what is going to be a very sensitive situation. Isn't that right, Alicia?"

Alicia bit off an angry retort, realizing that she would only be able remain on Kirk's say so. "Of course, Captain. The welfare of these gentlemen from the past is foremost in my mind," she answered sweetly.

Kirk nodded to McCoy, "Doctor, I think you can get started now."

"Good," McCoy answered. "Actually, we will be reviving only one of them right now. It's a lot easier to control things if we only have one person to worry about at a time."

"Which man will be first?" Alicia asked.

"We're going to revive the taller one first. His pod is in better shape than the other. I want to see first how things go with an undamaged one first," McCoy explained as he touched a number of controls on the console in front of him. "You'll notice that we have each pod in its own isolation chamber. In each chamber we have duplicated the same conditions that existed on the derelict since it was under those conditions that they remained stable for over 300 years. In the first chamber, the one that holds the first man we will be reviving, we are slowly bringing up the pressure, gravity and oxygen levels. Once they are at standard shipboard levels we will start waking him up."

Looking into the isolation chamber Kirk could see the pod resting on a medical bed. Above it was a standard medical monitor. So far the indicators rested slightly above the bottom of the gauge. In other words, alive, but barely. As he watched, the pod's surface began to clear until its occupant could be clearly seen. He was a well-muscled man, completely nude, with a deeply tanned complexion, dark, almost black hair and strong, regular features.

"Magnificent," Alicia breathed.

Kirk grimaced. That's not exactly the word he would have used. McCoy was right, he thought, feeling a little more reassured, while athletically built he was definitely not a superman like Khan.

Increasingly the fluid inside the pod thinned until it was completely gone, leaving the man resting on the surface of the medical bed. Then the pod itself began to thin until it was no more substantial than a soap bubble. Finally it was gone, leaving not even a damp spot on the chamber's floor.

The man's chest rose and fell slowly as if in a deep sleep. Kirk looked questioningly at McCoy.

"Respiration's detectable," McCoy supplied, checking the indicators on the console in front on him. The indicators were well above the zero mark, but still not at normal levels. "There's evidence of brainwave activity, mainly alpha..."

"Dreaming..." Alicia murmured. "I wonder what kind of dreams a person dreams when they're asleep for three centuries."

"How long until he's fully conscious?" Kirk asked.

"At this rate, maybe about an hour. Hard to tell. I guess the designers of these things figured the sleeper would be lot easier to handle if he regained consciousness slowly. At least it'll give us some time to run decontam."

"Decontam?" Alicia echoed.

"That is a necessary step," Spock supplied for the doctor. "He could very well harbor microorganisms for which our immunological systems have had no experience with. If you remember Earth history correctly the exposure of seemingly harmless microorganisms to an immunologically naive population can be extremely deadly."

"But couldn't we be dangerous to them for the same reasons?" Alicia asked.

"Definitely not," Spock responded. "All crew members and visitors to the Enterprise routinely go through decontamination procedures when they enter this ship. Of course, since the Enterprise's mission involves a great deal of planetary visits, we go through the same procedures when we go off ship as well as maintain immunizations against a wide variety of etiological agents."

"What Spock is trying to say," McCoy growled, "Is that he's more of a danger to us than we are to him. That's why we're running decontam. So you don't have to worry, we're no danger to him."

"At least not micro-biologically," Kirk muttered under his breath.

Alicia shot him a sharp look which he returned with what he hoped was a winning grin. "I'm sorry you didn't get to see anything exciting yet," he said to Alicia as he escorted her out of sick bay. "But don't worry, as soon as he comes around we'll let you know."

IV

It was much later when Kirk found himself again at McCoy's side in sick bay. Thankfully, this time Alicia was nowhere to be seen. Arms crossed against his chest McCoy glumly rocked on the balls of his feet as he watched on the remote screen in his office the dark haired man who was now clothed in the standard blue medical jumpsuit.

"What's wrong?" Kirk asked.

"Damned if I know. He's been conscious for some time, but instead of acting like I'd expect of somebody in his situation, he's playing possum."

"Playing possum?"

"Yeah. He's pretending he's asleep. It's like he's taking his time before he has to deal with us; like he wants to find out more about his situation before we know that he's awake." McCoy gaze sharpened as he watched the screen. "Well, there he goes..."

The man's eyes opened for a few minutes, obviously making sure the coast was clear. He cautiously sat up, again making sure there was no one around. Finally he slid off the bed. For a few moments he stood shakily next to the bed, fighting to get his balance back after the centuries long sleep.

McCoy moved toward the separating door, but found that Kirk had grasped his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Not yet," Kirk said, his eyes still on the monitor.

McCoy shrugged. "Don't blame me if he falls on his face and hurts himself," he growled.

Kirk shook his head. "I doubt that's going to happen," he commented, drawing the doctor back to the monitor.

True to the captain's words, the dark haired man had quickly found his balance. He moved surely around the room, critically observing everything around him. Kirk found it interesting that the man paid special attention to the walls surrounding him, going so far as to run his fingers around the featureless door that led out of the room. Obviously he was looking for some way out. Even more obviously the man seemed to suspect that he was being watched.

"He acts like he thinks he's a prisoner," Kirk commented.

"Yeah," McCoy agreed, "And he's damned calm about it too. Mighty strange behavior for a guy who's been asleep for three hundred years. Most people of his time would either be screaming about their rights and demanding to be let out, or sitting in the corner in a catatonic state."

"I don't think he's the kind of person to do that," Kirk said thoughtfully, "He's the kind of man who knows how to handle himself in an emergency. In fact if I was in the same situation I'd be doing the exact same thing."

McCoy's eyebrows lifted in interest, "So we've latched on somebody who is not quite your normal 20th century human being. Considering those rockets Scotty found on that car, I'd say our patient has had some experience with danger."

Kirk nodded his agreement. "I can't wait to meet him," he said, leading the way out of McCoy's office.

The first thing about the man that struck Kirk when he came into the room was the unusual color of his pale eyes. If anybody had asked him, he couldn't have said definitely what color they were. The moment he decided they were blue was the same moment he decided that they were green. It was like trying to describe the color of the Mediterranean Sea on a sunny day.

The next thing and the most important was the clear intelligence in those eyes and the way the man held himself. As soon as Kirk and McCoy entered the room he had assumed a stance of quiet readiness. He seemed to be watching them not only with his eyes and ears, but with his entire body. He was waiting to decide whether they presented a threat and how best to defend himself. Remembering the man's muscular build, Kirk had no doubt that the stranger was perfectly capable of defending himself.

Deciding to make the first move, Kirk presented his hand. "Welcome aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise," he said, "I am Captain James T. Kirk, and this is

Doctor Leonard McCoy."

The man's eyes swept around the room; with a frown he replied suspiciously, "This is not the Enterprise. I've been on it, and this is most definitely not an aircraft carrier."

Kirk smiled. "You're right this is not the Enterprise. At least not the one of your era. This is the United Federation Star Ship Enterprise."

"Starship?" the man echoed.

"Yes, we're several light years from earth and about three hundred years from your time," Kirk explained.

The man shook his head. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?" he snapped. "C'mon, I've never seen anything that looks as cheesy as this," he answered indicating the room around him.

"Cheesy..."McCoy muttered.

Kirk placed a warning hand on the doctor's arm. "I can understand that you might find this all a bit bewildering," Kirk continued, even though bewildered is not how he would have described his attitude, "but this is indeed a real starship."

The man crossed his arms across his chest. Obviously he was not about to buy into what Kirk was telling him. "Where's my man?" he demanded.

_His man_, Kirk thought, _interesting. _ He forced a reassuring smile, biting back a sharp remark about the stranger's high-handed attitude. Apparently he was used to being in command. "He's in the next room. We'll take you there." Kirk said with a nod to a fuming McCoy. "Doctor, if you'll lead the way," Kirk said pleasantly. "By the way, I didn't get your name," he added to the man who had not yet taken a step toward the door.

The man slightly rocked on his feet, a muscle tightened in his jaw as suspicion and indecision warred for a few minutes across his face. Finally he breathed out his name, "Britt Reid," he said in a tight voice as if identifying himself was the most dangerous thing he could do.

With McCoy in the lead, Kirk and Reid walked the short distance to the second isolation room. During the walk Reid remained silent in thought. Kirk reluctantly left him to his thoughts. He was brimming over with questions, but he knew that Reid still not believe that he was in space aboard a star ship. Outside of the all too natural reluctance to believe that one has slept away centuries there was another overriding reason for Reid not to believe the truth. After all, what kind of man uses a car equipped with rockets? Perhaps when he saw his "man" in the sleeper pod he would finally believe.

Kirk was to be disappointed. Even though Reid could see through the observation window that his man was encased in a sleeper pod, he still did not believe. "Impossible," Reid said, "It can't be."

"It is," Kirk said, "You were in a pod just like that one," he explained. "We found the two of you on board a derelict space ship."

Reid shook his head as he closed his eyes. "It can't be," he whispered.

"The ship had been holed, probably by a large meteor. There was an explosive decompression. It happened around three hundred years ago."

Staring into the isolation chamber, Reid pressed his hands up against the glass, as he rested his forehead against it. The awful truth was starting to dawn on him. "No," he protested quietly, "It's impossible."

"What do you remember?" McCoy gently asked Reid as he glanced at Kirk.

Reid sighed before answering. "I was hoping it was all a nightmare. A hoax, a trick or scam," he said.

"What happened?" McCoy asked.

"We were on a back road," Reid answered, his eyes locked on the pod in the isolation room. "We were heading home. It had been a long night. The car suddenly stopped. We couldn't get it running again. Then a very bright light surrounded us. It was blinding." Reid's voice died for a moment as he remembered. The past played itself out in his mind. "They were very short and bald. Their eyes were huge, but their mouths were tiny, only slits. They didn't have noses, just openings where a nose would have been. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed even though I could feel and see everything they did to me." Again his voice died out, the memory too painful to describe.

McCoy placed a comforting hand on the much taller man's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "The beings we found on the ship match your description. It looks like they might have been collecting specimens from the planets they visited," he explained.

"So was that what we were? Specimens? For what? A zoo?" Reid said bitterly, the fire coming back into his voice.

"We don't know," Kirk answered.

Reid turned toward the doctor. "How long will he be in there?" he asked.

"Maybe for the next few days," McCoy answered. "I want to make sure that you have no ill effects before we bring him out."

Reid glanced reflectively at the pod in the chamber. "You will let me be there when you wake him up?" he asked.

"Of course," McCoy answered. Then trying to lighten the mood, he added, "I'm sure everything is going to turn out fine."

"Yeah, sure," Reid answered doubtfully.

"Captain Kirk," interrupted Alicia's voice, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Kirk groaned inwardly as he watched Alicia glide into the room. _That's all I need now, _he thought.

Alicia tilted her head charmingly as she regarded Reid, obviously liking what she was seeing. "I'm sooo glad that you've finally awakened."

"Uhh," Kirk began, thinking that he might as well get it over with, "Mr. Reid, Ms Alicia Meyers. Alicia, Mr. Britt Reid."

Alicia held out her hand delicately to Reid, which he took into his own hands, dwarfing hers. "I'm so glad to meet you," she breathed. "So what do you think of the 23rd century?"

"I haven't seen enough it to judge yet," Reid replied smoothly, seemingly beguiled by Alicia's charm, "but if you're representative of it, I may come to like it."

Alicia's smile widened as she preened under Reid's compliment, "I'm sure you will like it very much. Have you had a chance to tour the Enterprise yet?" she asked.

Reid shook his head, "No, I wanted to check on my friend's condition first."

"Of course," Alicia answered. She regarded the pod through the window, "Are you close?" she asked.

A shadow fell over Reid's face as he joined her gaze, "In many ways, yes. He works for me, but we're as close as brothers. We've been through a lot together. And now this..." Reid sighed thoughtfully.

Alicia grabbed Britt's arm, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist, "Don't worry," she said, "Dr. McCoy will take good care of him while I show you around the ship." She shot a look at the doctor, "Won't you, doctor?" she asked sweetly.

"Now, Alicia, I don't know if Mr. Reid is up to a tour yet," Kirk said. "Doctor, don't you have some tests you need to run?" he asked McCoy.

McCoy shook his head, "Not anything that can't wait. It might be a good idea for Mr. Reid to stretch his legs and get a good look at the Enterprise while he's at it." He grinned, oozing with Southern charm, "Besides I can't imagine a prettier tour guide."

"Spock?" Kirk asked the science officer.

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I agree with Doctor McCoy. Any tests that need to be done can be postponed until a later time. I believe that Ms Meyers' presence would be most beneficial in helping Mr. Reid adjust to our era."

McCoy muttered, "Wasn't that what I just said?"

Kirk glanced at Spock and McCoy. "I guess we're in agreement then," he said to Alicia, "I hope you have a good time."

Alicia pressed closer to Reid, "Don't worry we will." Her eyes speculatively slid up and down his tall frame. "But first we must find something for you to wear," she said to him, "We absolutely cannot have you looking like an escapee from sick bay."

Kirk turned to Spock and McCoy after the doors had swooshed closed behind Alicia and Reid. "You think it's a good idea to leave him alone with her?" he asked them.

"I do not think Ms Meyers is a threat to Mr. Reid's well-being," Spock replied.

"What about you doctor? I thought you were concerned about her getting her hooks into our sleepers."

"I still am," McCoy replied, "I think it's more important that we keep Mr. Reid busy. I don't much like the looks of his friend's pod. I don't want to alarm him yet, so the longer we keep his mind off things the better."

"Are you thinking that we might lose the other one?" Kirk asked.

"No, at least I hope not. But I'm starting to think it might be better if we can wait until we get to better medical facilities at a Starbase. That's going to be at least two weeks including our visit to Iotia. I'd rather Reid was occupied with something else instead of worrying about his friend's condition."

"I concur," Spock replied, "I believe that the sooner Mr. Reid becomes acclimated to our century the better it will be for his psychological health."

"I see, so you both think that Mr. Reid will be okay with Ms Meyers," Kirk replied. Spock and McCoy nodded their agreement. "Okay then, Mr. Spock, I have an assignment for you. Now that we have a name, I want you to do some research. I want to find out who he is and why in the world does he have a rocket-equipped car. There's something odd about that man and I want to find out what that is."

V

Inside the Enterprise's engine room Britt listened politely as chief engineer Commander Scott explained the complexities of dilithium crystals and warp engines. Although the huge ship was not powered by anything even remotely related to late 20th century technology, Britt could still sense power that was capable of moving the ship rapidly through unimaginable distances. The very air itself vibrated around him with that power, he could even swear that he could hear the thrum of mighty engines even though they had no mechanical moving parts like those of his own time.

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Alicia said, breaking through the Scotsman's monologue, "I'm sure Mr. Reid is finding this so very fascinating, but we must really be going."

"Aye, Ms Meyers," Scott replied in embarrassment, "I'm sorry. Forgive me, I dinna realize that I was going on so long." A crooked grin appeared on the Scotsman's face. "I'm afraid when I start talking about the Enterprise, I find I canna stop."

"It's obvious that you're very proud of this ship," Britt commented. "From what I see, you have every right to be so," he added.

"Thank ye," Scott replied. "That reminds me of that vehicle we found in the derelict. I've been meaning to ask you about it."

"The car?" Britt asked.

"Aye, the black car. Tis armed to the teeth, we've been wondering why."

"Oh that," Britt answered too quickly, "It's nothing really. It's just a stunt car. We were just, ah, trying it out for a friend of mine. It was for a movie he was working on."

"I see," Scott said, "It looks mighty realistic to me, but I guess that's the way they made films in your time, them not having the technology we have today."

"Yes, exactly. You really shouldn't bother with it. It's too old for you to trouble with."

"Perhaps she is old," Scott replied, "but I enjoy working on old things, especially those old internal combustion engines. It's gives me great pleasure to make them like purr like a kitten again."

"Oh course," Brit replied, "but surely you have something more important to do with your time."

"Tis nothing, Mr. Reid. To tell ye tha truth I'd rather be working on an engine, any engine, than be sittin on tha bridge. For tha Captain and Mr. Spock that might be fine, but here," Scott said, proudly pointing about the engine room, "this is where I belong."

"I sure you do," Britt said, "but don't waste any effort on that car." A rough edge appeared in his voice. "It's nothing but a piece of junk," he continued bitterly, "You should have left it on that derelict. That's where it belongs." As much as he wanted to, he didn't add that he wished he had been left there as well.

Scott's face fell in dismay. "I'm sorry that ye feel that way."

Alicia wrapped an arm around Britt. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Scott," she said, "I think it's just that the suddenness of waking up in another era is catching up with Mr. Reid." She turned to Britt with a concerned look on her face.

"Oh course, Miss Meyers," Britt replied, "That must be what it is."

"Aye," Scott said, "I've gone on too much. I hope we will have a chance to talk later when you've had some time to adjust."

"I'm sure we will," Britt replied as he followed Alicia out of Engineering.

"I'm sorry, Britt," Alicia said once they were out in the corridor, "I'm afraid Mr. Scott tends to prattle on."

"That's all right," Britt answered, "Like you said, I just need time to adjust."

"Right," Alicia agreed. "By the way how are you finding the 23rd century so far?" she asked.

"I find it very interesting," Britt began thoughtfully.

"We've come a very long way since your time. There's been a lot of progress technologically. You must find the very thought of interstellar travel mind-boggling."

"That's not what I find so interesting," Britt said, "That's been gone over ad infinitum in science fiction. I would have been more surprised if we hadn't achieved space travel by the 23rd century."

"What do you find so interesting then?"

"The people. Look around you. There are men and women of all races, hell, species working together peacefully on this ship. In my time the world was an armed camp. The only thing that prevented a major war was the threat of mutual nuclear annihilation. Instead we were fighting half-heartedly in a bunch of minor wars that were bleeding us dry spiritually as a nation. Everywhere you looked there were riots between races, between generations, between sexes. I'm surprised that earth hadn't blown itself apart by now."

"We came close," Alicia admitted, "but we were lucky enough to escape that fate, however..."

"However?"

"You noticed that we do have aliens on this ship..."

"Yes..."

"It's that way on Earth too."

"And is that bad?"

"Yes, it is. We're losing our identity as a world. A lot of our young people abandon the Earth to be lost forever to alien worlds and in return we get all sorts of strange aliens. Creatures who have no respect for our ways, for our traditions. Worse than that is the fact that earth blood is being mixed with alien. Look at Mr. Spock. He's half-human, but did he choose to honor his human half? No, he has totally rejected his human side in favor of the alien Vulcan side. It's wrong, but it's happening all over Earth, not just on this ship but everywhere you go on Earth. People are forsaking their human heritage in favor of the alien.

"We should be the first among worlds in the Federation, but instead we're just one voice among many. That's not the way it should be. We have the greatness for so much, much more," she said passionately. "That's why we need you, I need you," she continued. "You will show the people of Earth the best of their heritage. You will help me make the people of Earth proud of what they are."

Britt nodded thoughtfully. "Does Captain Kirk know you feel this way?" he asked.

"He does," Alicia said with a frown, "I thought he would help me, but he has been in space too long. He's lost all emotional contact with Earth. Sometimes he seems to be more alien than the aliens themselves."

"So you want to use me to further your political ends," Britt asked evenly, carefully watching for Alicia's reaction.

Lost in her own vision of greatness, Alicia did not at first notice Britt's coolness. "Yes," she began, then corrected herself realizing that he was not sharing her enthusiasm. "No. Not use you. I want your help. I need you to help me get Earth out of the Federation and take full control of Starfleet. I need your help to set things right."

"I see," Britt murmured quietly.

Alicia caught herself, quickly changing tack, "I'm sorry, Britt, I didn't mean to do overboard like this. You must think I'm some terrible jingoist. All I want is what is best for my people. Surely you understand that."

"Of course, we all want what's best for everyone," Britt answered.

Alicia smiled at him. "Actually I'm impressed by how well you're adjusting to everything. I don't think that I would have adjusted to things as well as you have. Are you always in the habit of landing on your feet, no matter what life throws at you?"

"Not always, but in this case I think it's because I don't quite believe this is real," Britt answered.

"So do you think this is all a dream?" she asked.

"Maybe," Britt thoughtfully answered. "Maybe I'll wake up and find out that this was all a bad dream caused by too much spicy food the night before. Or maybe...," he hesitated.

"Or what?" Alicia asked.

"Or it could some elaborate trick."

"A trick?" Alicia retorted, "How can you even think that? After all that I have shown you. There is no way that these things could be faked by someone of your time."

"Miss Meyers, things are not that primitive in my time. You'd be surprised what can be done with a bit of paint, glitter, and some plywood."

"So do you think this is just a bunch of plywood," Alicia answered gesturing at the walls around them. Do you think that we're just a bunch of actors. Why would anyone go to such extremes to convince you that you are on a starship?"

"I don't know," Britt answered. "That's what I keep on trying to figure out. Maybe this is some kind of publicity stunt or some kind of hoax."

"And who are you that someone would want you to believe that you're in the future on a starship?"

"I own a very influential newspaper and television station," Britt explained, "People trust what I print in my paper and air on my station. Perhaps this is all some kind of attempt to defraud people. It's happened to me before. I didn't believe it before, and I have no intention of believing anything until I have irrefutable proof."

"It looked like you were convinced in sick bay," Alicia reminded Britt.

Britt sighed. "I was, but now... I don't know."

"Maybe it's easier for you not to believe," Alicia said thoughtfully.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe it's better to think that all of my friends are still alive, that I still have something to go back to than to consider that I have been cast adrift without anything to my name; that all of my knowledge, all of my skills, that I myself have suddenly become obsolete in what is to me overnight."

"Britt," Alicia answered, "You are far from obsolete. Your life still has meaning." She gazed into his eyes. "I will bring meaning into your life." She pressed her lips against his. For a moment he tensed than returned her kiss as his hands pulled her closer to him.


	2. Chapter Two

Another Piece of the Action 24

**Chapter Two**

**Relic**

I

_Captain's log, Stardate 6667.11. It was difficult to tear ourselves away from the derelict, but we have left a beacon for a Federation Science ship to pick up. In a way I envy what they will discover on the ship, but duty calls. As it is our "souvenirs" from it are faring well. Commander Scott is avidly studying the vehicle we took from the ship and the sleeper we awakened, Britt Reid, seems to be adjusting well to being suddenly thrust into the 23__rd__ century. The remaining sleeper pod appears to be stable, but Doctor McCoy is keeping it under close observation in case anything should go wrong. _

_We were able to make up the time at the derelict very easily and will be arriving at the Sigma Iotia system within the next few days, well within schedule. The only problem so far is that Sigma Iotia II has not responded to any of our attempts to hail them. I am hoping that there is a harmless explanation for their silence._

Kirk heard the hiss of the bridge turbolift behind him and smelled the heavy scent of Alicia's perfume long before she came to stand next to him. He looked up at her. "You seem to be very satisfied with yourself," he commented.

She smiled a smoky, secretive smile. "Satisfied, what a wonderful choice of words, Captain."

"I heard that Britt Reid spent the night with you."

"He did indeed. I bet you're dying to hear how it went."

"Not really, but I'm sure that's not going to stop you."

Alicia's smile broadened as she seductively lowered her eyes, "Well, I can tell you that being in suspended in animation has had no bad effects on Britt's performance. There are a few differences between his time and ours when it comes to technique, but that's something that can easily be taken care of."

"And, of course, you're fully willing to make the great sacrifice to take care of that simple matter," Kirk replied, thinking that there were a lot of things Alicia could teach any man of any era.

"No sacrifice involved at all, my dear Captain," Alicia replied, "When you're dealing with superior equipment, it's always a pleasure."

"So Alicia," Kirk said gruffly, "Is there any other reason why you're on the bridge? Besides bragging about your latest conquest, that is."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. I was wondering how long until we reach the nearest Starbase."

"We're less than a week out from Sigma Iotia II," Kirk answered, "We'll spend a few days there and Starbase 12 is about three days from there. Still in a hurry to get back to Earth?" he asked, noticing Alicia's frown in concentration.

"No, not really," she said lightly. Too lightly. "When is Doctor McCoy planning to revive Britt's friend?"

"I think he wants to wait until we hit Starbase 12. They have more advanced medical facilities than we have just in case there are any problems," Kirk explained.

"Sounds like a good idea," she said agreeably. She ran a finger across Kirk's shoulders. "I must be going now. Have fun," she said flippantly before flouncing off the bridge.

Kirk glumly watched the viewscreen for a few minutes wondering what Alicia had on her devious little mind. First she was extremely eager for them to reach Earth, now she's seems willing to bide her time. _Probably figures it'll give her more time to wind Reid around her little finger, _he thought distastefully.

He punched a button on the arm of his chair. "Working," announced an electronic female voice.

"Where's Britt Reid?" he asked the computer.

"Sickbay, Isolation room 3," came the reply.

_Where Reid's friend is kept_, Kirk remembered. "Is Alicia Meyers there?"

"Negative."

_Good,_ Kirk thought as he rose out of his chair. "Mr. Sulu," he said aloud, "You have the Con. I'll be in Sickbay."

Kirk found Britt in the small control room just off Isolation room 3. Arms crossed across his chest, the big man stood watching through the window at the pod resting in the brightly lit zero g chamber. He hated to interrupt the man's solemn vigil, but this was might be the only chance he'll have to talk to him without Alicia around.

"Mr. Reid, I need to talk to you a few minutes," Kirk said.

Britt nodded, not taking his eyes away from the pod, "Sure. What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Spock has been finding some disturbing information that I need to discuss with you," Kirk began.

"What kind of information?"

"When you first woke up, you called him 'your man'. Would you mind explaining that? Is he a friend? An employee? A chauffeur maybe?"

Britt sighed as a muscle in his jaw twitched. "His name is Kato. He's my friend, and yes, he is my employee although that doesn't much matter now, and it sure as hell didn't matter much in the past. Kato's main job, besides keeping my household running was keeping me from making stupid mistakes. I think almost in a way he's like your Mr. Spock. He made sure of the small things, the details so that I could concentrate on the big picture. If it wasn't for him I'd be dead a hundred times over," he explained.

"And so the car..."

"It's called the Black Beauty, although a lot of people liked to call it a rolling arsenal."

"And you are the master criminal known as the Green Hornet."

"Was," Reid corrected bitterly, "That's all over now."

"So during the day, you played the straight arrow newspaper publisher and at night you were a vicious criminal."

His face bleak, Reid turned on Kirk. "I don't have to explain myself to you," he said harshly, "Anyway, what the hell does it matter to you? That's all over with. Everything, the Green Hornet, my newspaper, the Daily Sentinel, everything that I am, doesn't exist any more. Or do you plan of prosecuting us for crimes that were committed centuries ago?"

"I just want to figure you out," Kirk answered, "I want to know where you stand."

"Where I stand?" Britt echoed, "I don't stand anywhere. Do you honestly think that I want to be here? Hell, I'd rather be dust now, than here on this ship."

"And Alicia?"

Britt shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, Captain, I know damn well the woman's a user. She uses people for her own purposes and then discards them whenever it suits her needs. I had her pegged from the start."

"I see and has she told you why she's on the Enterprise?"

"She has, and you can rest assured that I definitely do not support her agenda."

"So you're hanging around with Alicia because..."

"Because I'm using her. Sometimes you can find more about something from people who're against it than from those who are for it," he explained. "I'm a newspaperman. Newspapers may not exist anymore, but that's what I am. Information is my meat."

"And the Green Hornet?"

Britt's shoulders sagged. "I take it that history has judged the Green Hornet to be a monster then."

"Yes."

Britt returned to contemplating the pod in the isolation room. He shook his head. "The Green Hornet wasn't a criminal," he explained, all emotion drained from his voice. "He was a crime fighter. He posed as a crime boss because that was the best way to get at the true criminals. Not the penny ante crooks, but those who operated behind them. Those people who cloaked themselves with legal mumbo jumbo to destroy others and then to escape justice. The Green Hornet worked to expose those people and their schemes to the full light of day, so that they would feel the full weight of the law."

"How very altruistic of you," Kirk commented cynically.

"Believe whatever you want," Britt replied with a shrug, "Like I said before, it doesn't matter. The Green Hornet's dead, just like practically everything else that was important in my life. Kato's all that's left."

One of the indicators in the overhead monitor slid down as a light started to flash yellow. Britt noticed just as it turned a solid red, "Captain..." he said.

Kirk slammed the intercom button with a fist, "McCoy, Isolation room 3, on the double." Alarms started squealing as more of the indicators started sliding into the red.

The pod was nearly transparent when McCoy and his medical team rushed into the room. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I have no idea," Kirk answered.

McCoy pressed a set of buttons while watching the telltales on the monitor. "Something must've happened." He shot a quick glance into the isolation room. Kato was starting to stir as the pod continued to clear. "It's happening too fast. Stable for three hundred goddamn years and it chooses now to go haywire," he growled. "Should've kept it under earth normal atmosphere and low grav," he berated himself, "Figured it was best to keep it under the same conditions as on that derelict." McCoy glared at the telltale as the air pressure in the isolation room began to slowly rise, "Can't have it go up too fast," he said more to himself than to Kirk and Britt, "Could cause more trouble than it fixes." McCoy slammed an open palm against wall. "Dammit," he cursed.

The gel inside the pod had thinned to a watery thickness as Kato was struggling desperately like a drowning man. The fluid was turning red and frothing from his efforts. The fragile skin of the pod writhed in sympathy.

"He can't breathe!" Britt exclaimed.

"I know, god damn it!" McCoy angrily retorted, "I can't make the oxygen pressure go up any faster than it's doing right now. It's on emergency already."

A light on the console flickered red then settled down into yellow. McCoy hit the door release, "Go, go," he shouted to his team as he closely followed on their heels. Air rushed into the isolation room sucking in pieces of stray paper left in the monitoring room.

Britt moved to join them. "No," Kirk said, grabbing his arm. "You better stay here."

"But..." Britt protested, pulling his arm free.

"You'll only be in the way," Kirk told him, grabbing the taller man by the shoulders, forcing him to face him.

Inside the chamber McCoy and his people were half-swimming, half-floating toward the pod. Kato's struggles were becoming increasingly weaker. Then the pod popped like a soap bubble, expelling the blood red fluid into the thin air in fat globules.

"The doctor needs to concentrate on your friend, not worry about you banging around in there," Kirk shot at Britt as he struggled to pull him into the main room of sick bay. "Your friend is in good hands," he tried to reassure Britt.

Britt bowed his head in defeat as he sagged into a nearby chair. He asked very quietly, "Do people in your time still pray?"

"Yes," Kirk answered gently, "Sometimes constantly."

II

A few days out from Iotia, Kirk found the time to watch Britt Reid and Kato as they worked out in the ship's gym. He was not the only one leaning against the wall as the two men sparred. In fact, leaning space was in short supply, but crewmembers quickly made room for him when he entered the gym. Good ol' RHIP. At times rank did have its privileges.

But, Kirk noticed, in this room there was one rank that outranked captain. Alicia sat on a folding chair, the only one present in fact, and still managed to present herself as regally as a queen on a throne. With a disgusted snort, Kirk turned his attention to the two men.

Kirk mentally shook his head in wonder. Despite his and Doctor McCoy's fears, Kato had quickly recovered from stasis. Judging by the first few days he would have expected the man to be an invalid for a very long time. Those days had been very bad indeed. Like a newborn born too early, Kato had emerged with a condition like hyaline membrane disease. Due to the pod's malfunction his lungs had not had the time to make the change from a fluid environment to breathing air. Even with all of McCoy's skills and the advantages of a starship sickbay, half of the time they weren't sure that he would even make it.

During that time Britt Reid had haunted sick bay. Denying food or orders to rest, he had stayed his companion's side until Kato was finally out of danger. Now he was fully recovered. In fact he was more than fully recovered, to watch him spar with the taller Reid, one would have never thought that he had almost died.

They were an interesting pair to watch. Reid was tall and built square with well-muscled shoulders and arms. He moved with little wasted motion, like a tiger with nothing to worry about. Kato was much smaller, almost a head shorter, but quicker and lighter. His movements were fast, sometimes blindingly so, but filled with a dancer's grace. The sound of his slashing hands or flying feet slamming into the padded mitts in Reid's hands were loud enough to make the watchers wince, but left the big man as unmoved as a solid block of granite.

Seeming to finally to notice that a crowd had gathered, Kato stopped in his tracks with a big grin on his face. Kirk knew a show-off when he saw one and the trim oriental was the consummate showman. He saw a quick glance pass between Kato and Reid, with a shrug and nod of agreement from Reid.

Kato gave a slight bow. "I see many people from many worlds here. You have seen my Kung fu," he said. "Can someone show me what martial arts you practice on your own homeworld?" he asked. His dark eyes fell on one of the newer members of the Enterprise, a young Vulcan male who had recently joined at Spock's encouragement. "I hear that Vulcan's martial arts are very interesting, maybe you could show me a few moves, maybe even teach me one or two?" he asked.

The Vulcan shook his head with an expressionless face that still managed to be as cold as stone. "The martial arts of Vulcan are not meant for mass entertainment. They are solely used for self defense or for disciplining one's mind and body."

"Kung fu is like that too," Kato replied.

The Vulcan glanced at the gathered crowd with a raised eyebrow, "Obviously," was his dry reply before he turned on his heel.

Kato's face fell under the Vulcan's cold reply as the assembled watchers murmured behind the Vulcan's retreating back.

A loud, brash voice broke through, "Hey, I heard you brag that you could take on a whole bunch of guys single-handedly."

Kirk realized it was "Chancy" Shaugnessy, one of Alicia's suitors after she had run through the command crew. Every ship has its troublemaker and Chancy was the Enterprise's. Worse, Chancy had gathered around him the prerequisite clique; a group of crewmen who felt that for one reason or the other that life had not dealt them a fair hand. They were also high on Kirk's list of crewmen to be left behind on the next Starbase.

Kato's grin blazed as did his black eyes, "I'm always ready for a challenge."

He cast a questioning look at Reid. Reid glanced at Chancy and his five cronies, shook his head with slightly wry smile. He shrugged a consent, moving out of the way. He knew what Kato could do. Then the big man's eyes fell on Alicia who was leaning forward on her chair, with a hungry, excited look on her face. Reid's smile quickly changed to a dark glower that he hid behind a towel as he wiped his face.

Not noticing Reid's reaction, Kato studied the men circling him with a carelessly confident look. Holding big ham sized fists clenched at his sides, the bull-sized Irishman faced Kato, towering over him by a good head and a half. Nonchalantly Kato rolled his shoulders, getting the kinks out of them as though the lengthy work out with Reid had been barely enough to warm him up. Then he rolled his head with loudly audible cracks. All the time a wide grin graced his face as he loosened his joints from head to toe. Chancy was starting to huff with impatience. Finally Kato crooked his finger at the Irishman.

Chancy charged with a roar. Kato danced out of the way, spinning lightly on the balls of his feet. Chancy stopped in mid charge, spun around, fast for a man his size. He slammed a fist at Kato, who quickly side stepped it with a contemptuous open handed slap. Chancy one-two'd a combination punch fanning the air near Kato's belly. Kato gave a big cat yowl, dodged, and spun low sweeping Chancy's feet out from under him. Chancy hit the ground hard, rolled, then growled at his cronies as he pushed himself off the floor. Kato caught Chancy's lunge, using the impetus of his charge to launch him into two of his friends, bowling the three of them toward a wall.

The three remaining men piled onto the small oriental, momentarily burying him. A yowl erupted under the mountain as Kato exploded, sending them flying in different directions. Chancy grabbed Kato from behind, lifting him a foot off the ground, massive arms threatening to crush the oriental's neck. Kato slapped his hands high against the Irishman ears, deafening him. Kato landed lightly on his feet, as another man rushed him. With a flying sidekick, Kato sent him sliding on his backside. Barely before his feet touched the ground, Kato launched another kick at a man who had refused to stay down.

"Son of a b..."Chancy roared, swinging a heavy steel baton, that someone on the sidelines had handed him, at Kato's unprotected back.

Without turning, Kato met Chancy with an elbow into the belly, then a fist into the nose, sending blood spurting in a fountain of red. As Kato's final yowl echoed, Chancy rolled on the ground cursing in his agony. There was no one left standing. No one spoke.

"All right, crew," Kirk said into the heavy silence as he walked next to the triumphant Kato. "Play time's over. Time to get back to work," he ordered.

The dam of silence broke as crewmen began filing out of the gym; everyone speaking at the same time about how Kato had so quickly taken down Chancy and his friends. Red-shirted security men filtered through the crowd into the gym. Kirk nodded at the beaten men groaning on the floor, "Take them to the brig. And while you're at it, get Dr. McCoy to take a look at them." He shook his head. "I don't think they're going to be reporting for duty for quite a while."

"Impressive," he said to Kato as he approached him. "Thinking of joining the space marines?"

"Probably too old," Kato replied with excitement bright eyes as he took the towel Reid handed him.

"I bet you two make quite a team," Kirk commented.

"Once, maybe," Reid answered, looking past Kirk.

Seeing the grim look in Reid's eyes, Kirk turned to see Alicia approaching them.

"Kato, you're absolutely fantastic!" she gushed, "I can't wait until we get you on the holovids. You'll be the hottest thing since the Space Racers!"

Kato's brows rose, not understanding.

"Never mind darling, you wouldn't know," Alicia laughed with a wave of her hand, "After we get you on the air, everybody and everything will be passe'. You'll be the best thing to have happened to Earth since warp drive. Maybe even better," she continued. "I can't wait."

"Great!" Kato said, joining in her enthusiasm.

Kirk noticed that while Alicia plied Kato with her glowing vision of his impact on the universe, Reid's face had gotten darker and grimmer. "I'm heading for the showers," Reid finally muttered before turning his back on them.

Not hearing, Kato continued to drink in Alicia's admiration as Reid walked away with bowed head.

III

"Where have you been?" Britt growled from his bed as Kato tried to creep into their darkened quarters. It was late in the night according the ship's hours.

"I was with Alicia," Kato answered as he started pulling off his shirt.

"Talking?"

"Among other things." Even in the dim light Britt could see the brilliance of Kato's grin.

"You know she's making a fool of you," Britt commented, pushing himself up on one elbow.

"Oh, C'mon."

"You believe all that crap she's been feeding you?"

Kato shrugged, replying, "She's got some good points you know. Earth has to keep it's own identity. It's a big universe out here. If the people of Earth don't stand up for themselves, they'll just become another part of the homogenized culture of the universe."

"Big words," Britt sneered.

"What d'you mean by that?" Kato challenged.

"Alicia tried to feed that exact same b.s. to me. I didn't buy it. I don't think you should either."

"You're jealous."

"The hell I am."

"You are," Kato accused, his voice rising. "You're mad because she prefers me to you."

"That has nothing to do with it," Britt retorted angrily, "She knew I wasn't buying her act so she found herself another sucker."

"Sucker? Me, right?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"Like hell. You're mad because Mr. Big Shot Britt Reid, is no longer the center of the whole goddamn universe. Get real. If you'd pull your goddamn nose away from that goddamn computer monitor once in awhile, you'd realize that there's a whole new reality out there. Quit living in the past."

"So I take it panting after the first skirt that's wowed by your blasted Kung fu is a hell of a lot better? Damn it, Kato wake up and smell the coffee. That woman's only interested in using you for her little campaign. Once that's over with she'll throw you in the gutter on the nearest little backwater planet she can find."

"The hell she will. She loves me," Kato paused, breathing heavily as he thought. "That's it, isn't it? I think you're damn jealous because for once in your life someone is actually paying a lot more attention to me than they are you. Hasn't it ever occurred to you that I'm sick and tired of living in your shadow?"

"Tired of living in my shadow? Damn it, Kato. Any day you felt that way you could've said so. Any day you could've walked. You didn't have to come back after you graduated from college. You could've gone out on your own any time."

"I came back because I felt I owed your father for everything he did for me. He needed my help. I wanted to serve him. And then when he died, I couldn't as well leave. Not then, not when everyone else was leaving. Then you became the Green Hornet. I had to stay on. If I hadn't you would've probably gotten yourself killed."

"Well, you sure as hell don't have to worry about that now, do you? That's all over and done with, isn't it? You might as well space the Black Beauty while you're at instead of trying to fix it."

"Now, Mr. Reid..."

"Don't Mr. Reid me," Britt shot at him. "I'm not your Mr. Reid, I'm not anyone's Mr. Reid anymore."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"I don't care how you meant it. You're free now. You don't owe me a goddamn thing. Go, do whatever the hell you want."

"Mr. Reid..."

"Go on," Britt growled bitterly, "The past apparently doesn't mean crap to you, but that's all the hell I have. So you go live in your future. I hope that you enjoy it."

IV

Kirk waited impatiently as Dr. McCoy filed into the ready room. "Glad you could make it, Doctor," he commented sarcastically.

"I got more important things to do than waste my time on a meeting," McCoy replied gruffly, knowing that Kirk had long ago learned to put up with his insubordination.

Once McCoy had settled himself next to Mr. Scott, Kirk nodded to Mr. Spock who pressed a button on the computer console in front of him. In the center of the table on a small multi-sided projector a series of pictures of the planet Sigma Iotia II appeared. "We've been to Iotia before so most of us should already be familiar with Iotia's history," Spock began, "The Iotians are a highly intelligent race that is also extremely adaptable. They're able to quickly duplicate any technology they come across and totally incorporate it into their society in an extremely short amount of time. This was illustrated by the fact that all it took was the crash landing of a survey ship and the leaving behind of a book to launch a society that is totally based on the gangland wars that existed in Chicago in the 1920's.

"Further studies have shown that they are a humanoid race that is close enough to Earth genetically that Iotian/Terran offspring would be totally viable and fertile." Spock nodded toward Dr. McCoy, "That has led some people including Dr. McCoy to theorize that they might be the survivors of a lost earth colony or even the result of some kind of seeding by an unknown alien species. At present there is no evidence supporting either theory.

"However it might be, commerce to Iotia is strictly regulated so that their society will be able to evolve at a natural pace instead of being suddenly thrust into modern society and technology. This is especially important since even though their society has evolved technologically to that of Earth in the 1940's, and they have developed a type of representative government based on gang affiliation, it is still in the long run based on gangsters who continue to fight violently for control of 'turf' when voting does not go their way. If those gangs, either all or one of them ever obtained modern weaponry it could lead to a blood bath, if not the total destruction of the entire planet."

Kirk picked up the briefing at Mr. Spock's nod, "Since everyone, men, women, and children above the age of eight go armed, planetside trips will be heavily restricted. That means that there will be no shore leave on this planet," Kirk shot a quick look around the ready room. "Most Iotians are peaceful, but many are quick to take offense and will resort to violence if they think they did not receive the respect they feel they deserve.

"We are basically here to 'show the flag', people. To show that the Federation is still around and still very powerful. Since they can only conceive of gangster based society, we have to maintain the illusion that the Federation is similar to their concept of the early 20th century Feds. We have been only able to deal with them peacefully because they think the 'Feds' have the firepower and the will to rub them out at any time." Kirk glanced at Mr. Spock, who as a Vulcan was strongly anti-violence. "Unfortunately, within their society weakness is little tolerated. Any sign of weakness is quickly exploited, sometimes violently. Force must be always met with force. At all times, a tough, threatening appearance must be maintained. Any show of force must be met with an equal amount of force and is best accompanied with as much bravado as possible."

Again Kirk glanced around. "Are any questions?" When no one raised their hands, Kirk nodded, "Good, then I expect everyone on ship to be fully briefed by the time we hit Iotia's orbit." A wry smile appeared on his face. "If anyone groans about no shore leave on Iotia let them know that we'll make up for it on Starbase 12. At least there no one will be shot at. At least I hope so," he added, his grin turning crooked.

Dr. McCoy grabbed Kirk as he stepped out of the ready room. "What's the matter, Bones?" Kirk asked.

"I want Britt Reid on the away team," McCoy answered.

"You've got to be kidding," Kirk replied, "The last thing I need is a civilian in the middle of a powder keg."

"Reid might be just the man you need," McCoy said, "He's had experience dealing with gangsters as that Green Hornet character. He knows how to talk their language."

"I don't think that's a good idea. I don't know if I can trust him. He might say that this Green Hornet of his was a good guy, but all I have is his word on that. History paints a very different picture. If history was right, an already touchy situation could explode right in our faces."

"What does you gut tell you about Reid?" McCoy asked.

"I don't know," Kirk admitted, "he's a hard man to nail down. There's always this undercurrent about him. I feel like I'm always missing something when I'm dealing with him."

"Could be that Reid's miserable. He's lost everything that meant something to him. I think being off ship on a planet that's similar to his own era could be very helpful in him adjusting to our time."

"What about Kato? I thought since we revived him, Reid would adjust."

"I thought so too. Unfortunately it's not working out that way."

"Why?"

"Two words, Alicia Meyers."

Kirk nodded his understanding. "Oh, jealousy. I thought I noticed she was paying a lot less attention to Reid. But I wouldn't think she'd have managed to break up a friendship just like that."

McCoy shook his head. "I'm thinkin' you're a lot more naive than you look, Jim," he drawled, a grin taking the sting out of his words. "That woman's managed to create a gulf between those two as big as the Grand Canyon. They're not even sharing the same quarters now. Alicia's moved Kato in with her. Being on the Iotian away team is just the thing to take Reid's mind off his troubles."

"I'm sorry, Bones, but I can't do that. It's too dangerous."

"It could be more dangerous if you don't."

Kirk frowned at the doctor. "How?" he demanded.

"Reid's keeping to himself too much. I'm afraid it's a serious case of depression that could get far worse."

"What about the psych people?"

"He won't talk to them," McCoy explained, "People of his time didn't believe in counseling. It was considered a sign of weakness if you couldn't handle your own problems. It was anathema to admit to having any kind of mental illness. It was like saying that you're an incompetent."

"But how could being on the away team help?"

"Like I said, it could help take his mind off his problems."

"I don't like it," Kirk said, "It could turn ugly very fast. I can't involve a civilian in something like that."

"Reid's no ordinary civilian. A small taste of danger might be just the thing to perk him up."

Kirk stared at McCoy for a moment. "I wouldn't think purposely exposing somebody to danger is a sound mental health technique," he said doubtfully.

"Tell me, Jim, when do you feel the most alive? When you're filling out paperwork or when you're in the middle of a firefight with the Klingons?"

"That's different Bones."

"Reid's a lot more like you than you think."

Kirk looked doubtful.

"Talk to him. Then tell me what you think."

"But Bones..." Kirk began to protest.

"Talk to him," McCoy said firmly.

V

When Kirk entered the darkened observation deck, it took him a few moments to get over the temporary disorientation. Everywhere around him was the star filled dome of space. Having lost the rainbow effect they had when the Enterprise was traveling at warp speed, they appeared to hang still in the eternal blackness of space all around him. It was both awe inspiring and frightening. Even though he knew that an impenetrable barrier of transparent aluminum and force field protected him from a horrible death, the experienced spacer in him still screamed for the reassuring womb of ship steel around him.

Reid was a tall, dark shadow against the blanket of stars. His features, nearly invisible in the darkness, seemed to be lost in thought, although in Kirk's mind it was more than that. He seemed to be lost in time too.

"Dr. McCoy wanted me to talk to you," Kirk began, his voice seeming too harsh, too loud in the silence that surrounded Reid.

"There's nothing to talk about," Reid answered curtly.

"He's worried that you've been keeping to yourself too much lately."

"What business of that is his? Or yours?" Reid asked sharply.

"It's Dr. McCoy's job as ship's doctor to be concerned about the emotional or mental welfare of everyone on this ship, both crew and passenger. He's concerned about you and he wanted me to talk to you," Kirk explained.

"I see," Reid answered, turning away from Kirk to stare out at the stars. "I never thought I would ever go out into space," he said in a very quiet voice. "It was the dream of every school boy in my time..."

"It's still the dream of school boys. And girls," Kirk said. "Some things never change."

"In my time, it wasn't possible. Now it is." Reid sighed. "A few years after Kato and I were abducted by that damn UFO, the first man walked on the moon. Now it's just a way station."

"I know," Kirk commented, "But no matter how far we go, the frontier keeps on expanding. There's always something new out there, and it's human nature to find out what it is."

Reid nodded to himself. "How will you be able to give this all up?" he asked, turning to face Kirk, watching him closely.

"I don't understand..."

"This ship, the people you command, being on the edge of the frontier... Do you think you will ever be ready to give this all up?"

Kirk frowned, "I don't understand what you're getting at."

"All that time I was 'keeping to myself', I was busy researching you, this ship, the Federation, everything I could find out." Then in a much softer voice he added, "And my past, or what should have been MY past."

"It's amazing," he continued, "Once computers took up an entire room and were only able to perform a few very simple calculations. Now they fit in the palm of your hand and contain all the knowledge of the known universe. The computer on this ship can quickly access information that once could only be accessed after years of study in many universities.

"According to my research, you're one of Starfleet's youngest captains and now you're going to be bumped up to the Admiralty. That must be quite an honor, but do you really think you will be able to adjust to flying a desk?"

"Actually, I'm looking forward to my new position. Flying a starship is not all that it's cracked up to be. The Admiralty will bring a lot more stability into my life. After all, it's hard to raise a family between the stars, you know."

Reid nodded. "I guess you're right," he said with a sigh. "I can understand that. I guess. But I don't think that you'll be able to stand 'the quiet life' for very long before you're eager to get back into action."

"You'd be surprised," Kirk answered. "Besides, there'll be plenty of challenges ahead."

"So you're looking forward to this promotion?"

"I am," Kirk answered, but wondered why he was not feeling as excited about it as he thought he should.

"I wish I had a future to look forward to," Reid said. He turned away, his face hidden in the shadows. His voice was very quiet, filled with grief. "I am 33 years old and I have no future. I have no family to look forward to raising. No home to go back to. No career. Nothing. I've been cast adrift in time and space and I have nothing to anchor my life on. Nothing whatsoever." Reid turned to face Kirk, the misery plain in his face. "Perhaps your Dr. McCoy is right."

"You can always start over," Kirk said, trying to sound encouraging. "There's always retraining. I'm sure you could find a meaningful vocation if you would just give it a chance."

"After all the hoopla of being a man from the past? Who could ever forget that? I'll never have a normal life. I'll always be an outsider no matter where I go or what I do."

"Not necessarily. Space is very large. A man who wants to, can lose himself very easily."

"And where would I start?"

"At the beginning, I would guess. It would take you some time to learn your way around, but I have a feeling that you would advance very quickly in whatever you chose to do."

"In other words I'd have to start at the bottom."

"Of course."

"Captain," Reid said. "How would you feel if you were told that you would have to start at the bottom of a new career? Oh, say, as an errand boy?"

Kirk frowned, not knowing how to answer the question, knowing that his reply would damn him.

Reid nodded, knowing the captain's answer without his ever saying it. "My point exactly. "I can't start at the bottom. No matter how hard I would try, I can't. I know it may sound conceited, but it's the truth. Like you I was one of the youngest men in my position. I owned and ran a newspaper and television station. I employed several hundred people, almost as many as on this ship. Everyday I made decisions that could affect not only their lives, but also those of the people of the city and once in awhile even the entire country. Just like you. Now you're asking me to start at the bottom where I would be subject to somebody else's decisions, where I would not even have the right to have any say on where my own life is going? I'm sorry, Captain, it's not possible. I don't think I can take orders from somebody else. I didn't do it very well when I was just starting in the newspaper field. It'd be impossible now."

"We all take orders from somebody," Kirk replied. "Even though it looks like I'm totally independent. I still have to take orders from those over me."

"Even when you disagree with them?" Reid asked pointedly.

"Yes. Well, most of the time," Kirk added with a wry grimace.

Reid snorted. "Yeah, right. I bet you're one of those who go head long with whatever you think is right, and then figure out how to pick up the pieces later."

Kirk shrugged, "Well..."

"And you have the uncommon luck of coming out smelling like a rose every time."

Kirk smiled, realizing that Reid knew him or men like him a lot more than he had thought.

"You were born to be a starship captain. You could never be anything else. Look around you. Ask your crew and you'll get the same answer from everyone here. There is no Captain Kirk if there is no Enterprise and there is no Enterprise without Captain Kirk."

"I can exist without the Enterprise," Kirk said, even though his words sounded false in his own ears. _Was he really that sure he could live without the Enterprise? Without her crew?_

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Things change. They all do. The Enterprise can exist without me. After all I'm her third captain. There'll be others, just like there have been other Enterprises, and there will be others long after this one is sent to the wreckers."

"Possibly," Reid replied, "But they won't be this Enterprise. This is the ship and you are the captain everyone will remember long after we're all dust."

"I think it'd be the height of arrogance to think of myself that way."

"Maybe," Reid said, "but my point is that we have a lot in common. I am a third generation newspaperman. My grandfather was a reporter when the West was still wild and my father was a foreign correspondent before he founded my newspaper, the Daily Sentinel.

"They say that people like me have printer's ink running through our veins instead of blood. I might have entertained thoughts of escaping my legacy once in a while, but that is what I was meant to be, by training and by my own nature. I couldn't be anything else even when I did try. Nothing else felt as right as when I held a newspaper in my hands and knew that it's mine. That I assembled and led the people who created it. Now that's all gone. Everything that has ever meant something to me is gone."

Reid paused thoughtfully, then continued.

"Once there was a woman, a girl, that's the way I'll always remember her. She had hair the color of red-gold and the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen. I still remember the way she used to move, the way she used to smile. It seems like it was only yesterday..."

"Sounds like you loved her," Kirk commented.

Reid nodded. "I guess I did." He shook his head, "No, I still do, but I never told her that. Maybe..." He sighed. "She was my secretary, but until now I don't think I ever thought how much she meant to me. Meant? Means? How can I think in past tense about a girl I was only talking to a few days ago." Reid grimaced, "And yet you tell me centuries have passed.

"Her name was Lenore Case, but everyone called her Casey. Your computer tells me that after Kato and I disappeared she took over running the Daily Sentinel. I bet that frosted a lot people to find out that my will had given her the paper. The mere thought of a woman not yet 30 running a major newspaper must have really ticked off a lot of people. But you know what, she did a great job of it. She built on what I had left and made it bigger and better. Hell, it looks like one of your modern news organizations is a direct descendent of what she started with the Sentinel. When newspapers were dying all over the country near the end of the 20th century she kept the Sentinel profitable without ever once betraying the principles on which it was built."

Reid's voice softened, "She came to be known as the 'Grande Dame' of journalism. When she..." his voice cracked, went silent for a moment as he fought for composure, "When she died," he continued, "Heads of state from almost every country in the world came to her funeral."

"You made a good choice," Kirk commented.

"Yeah, I did, I guess. Maybe one of the few good ones in my lifetime. You know she never married. When asked why she stayed single, she always replied that she was married to the Sentinel. And to my memory. Long after she passed on someone found one of her journals. In it she said that she never believed that I had died. She always thought I would come back.

"I'd give anything, even life itself, just for the chance to go back and tell her how much she really meant to me."

"I'm sorry," Kirk said reluctantly, "That's impossible."

"Time travel is possible, you and your ship have done it," Reid reminded him.

"I know, but in this case, we can't."

"Of course. Too much would be changed, but still..."

"I'm sorry, but we all have things we wished we could have done, things we wished we could go back and change. But we can't. Believe me when I wish there was a way. Unfortunately there isn't. We have no choice but to pick up the pieces and blunder on the best we can," Kirk said, wondering if his words sounded as hollow in Reid's ears as they did in his.

"Yeah, sure," Reid replied bitterly. "Come back in a few years after you've had a heartbreak or two and tell me if you still feel that way."

"Now wait a minute," Kirk said testily, "I'd like you to know that my life isn't always a bed of roses either. There's been rough times too, but I haven't made it a habit to wallow around in my own self-pity."

"Like I have?" Reid answered accusingly.

"Yes."

For a moment Reid's pale eyes flashed angrily and Kirk subconsciously braced for an attack. Then the moment passed.

Reid raised his hand, "I'm sorry. I was out of line." He turned his back on Kirk. "Please leave now," he asked. "I need to be alone."


	3. Chapter Three

Another Piece of the Action 38

**Chapter Three**

**Iotia**

I

_Captain's log. Stardate 6667.15. The Enterprise has entered standard orbit around Sigma Iotia II. There is still no word from the planet since we have first entered the solar system, despite repeated hails..._

"Uhura," Kirk said, "Hail them again."

Uhura tried again. "I'm sorry, sir, there's still no response."

"Is there a problem?" Doctor McCoy asked as he stepped out of the turbolift.

"I don't know," Kirk answered. "We've been trying to hail them since we first hit the outer edge of the Iotian system. Still nothing."

"Could be no one's manning the com. After all it's night down there now. The Federation mission is only a few people. Maybe somebody'll pick up in morning," McCoy said hopefully.

"Maybe," Kirk said, "but still I don't like it. Chekhov," he said addressing the young man sitting in front of him, "Do a scan of the planet and surrounding airspace."

Chekhov nodded. "Yes sir," he said in a heavy Russian accent.

"How'd it go yesterday?" McCoy asked Kirk.

"Not very good, but you're right, something needs to be done. I just don't know what." He glared at the planet on the viewscreen, then punched a button on the arm on of his command chair. "Mr. Reid please come to the bridge," he said.

At McCoy's raised eyebrow, he replied, "I think it's time he gets his first look at an alien planet."

Kirk turned to greet Britt Reid as he stepped on the bridge. His welcoming smile quickly fell at the sight of Alicia hanging on Kato's arm as they followed Reid out of the turbolift. She held on his arm as if she owned him, which considering the entranced look on the slender Oriental's face was not an unpleasant way to be. An entranced look was also on the tall newspaperman, but his eyes were only for the cloud-draped planet on the viewscreen.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kirk commented to Reid.

"Yes, it is. I always thought you'd be able to see oceans and continents from space. Is this the way Earth looks from orbit?" Reid asked.

"Yes," Alicia said, "It looks like a big blue marble, at least that's what it was called after the first pictures from space. It made us realize how very small and fragile the Earth is. The feeling was how very lucky we were and how unique the Earth was as the lone inhabited planet in our known universe." She grimaced distastefully, "Then the Vulcans came and we realized we were just one of many inhabited planets and not a very important one at that. Isn't that right, Mr. Spock?" she said to the Vulcan's back.

Spock turned to face Alicia, "That is not quite accurate Ms Meyers. All planets are important and equal in their own unique way. The people of Earth are respected for their own special qualities as are all other sentient species."

"But the Vulcans are more equal than other races. Aren't they, Mr. Spock?" Alicia accused.

"Hardly, Ms Meyers," Spock replied, "It is highly illogical to consider one group more equal than another, which is in itself a highly illogical concept. Equality implies..."

"Okay, Mr. Spock," Kirk cut in, "Let's save the political discussions for later. Chekhov, anything turn up in the scans?" he asked.

"Nothing, Captain."

"Trouble?" Reid asked.

Kirk shrugged. "Probably not, but still..."

"Captain," Uhura said, "I have a hail from the Federation mission."

"Good," Kirk said coming to attention in his seat, "Put him on the main viewscreen."

A disheveled young man wearing a uniform of the Federation social sciences service appeared on the viewscreen. Although he faced them, his sunken eyes kept on nervously glancing off-screen.

"Is everything okay?" Kirk asked.

"I don't have much time," the young man blurted out. "They're all dead. Please for God's sake, take me off this god forsaken planet," he pleaded.

"What's going on?" Kirk demanded.

"There's no time, I can give you my co-ordinates. Please, for the love of god, beam me up now."

"Where's Commander Pierce or Mr. Franklin?" Kirk asked.

"They're dead. They're all dead. Beam me up," the young man answered, "I'm begging you, beam me up."

"What are your co-ordinates?" Kirk asked.

Before the young man could answer, a big man dressed in a double-breasted suit shoved him out of view. He had a battered face, a jutting jaw and a nose that was badly out of alignment. He grinned. "Glad to hear you finally made it, Captain Kirk," he said.

"Forlux," Captain Kirk said, recognizing the current chairman of the Iotian government, "What is going on there?" he demanded. "Where's the rest of the Federation mission?"

"Like the kid here said," Forlux replied, "They're dead. A crew of out-of-towners came in and hit the Fed headquarters right off the bat. Then they hit the council chambers. It's been a runnin' battle ever since. But now that you're here, we'll be able to hit them where it hurts."

"Captain," Spock said, "I do not believe that is an advisable course of action."

"You have got to be kidding," Alicia argued, "You heard him, the entire Federation mission has been destroyed. We have to avenge their deaths."

"How?" Spock replied. "Shall we use phasers and photon torpedoes against machine guns?"

"Hold it, both of you," Kirk growled, "I don't remember asking for advice from either of you."

"You don't have to worry about gettin' involved," Forlux stated, "Just give us some of those fancy heaters of yours and we'll take care of them our own way."

"Which would likely result in massive bloodshed," Spock replied.

Forlux glared at the Vulcan, "There's already been bloodshed. All of it on our side. All we wanna do is make the bastards pay."

"Not until we get some facts," Kirk replied. "We'll be beaming down in a few minutes. Now if you'll allow the Federation representative give us the co-ordinates..."

Forlux grimaced in distaste. "Damn bureaucrats, gotta always follow the damn rules," he muttered. He motioned to someone out of Kirk's view and the young man was shoved forward.

"Captain Kirk," he pleaded, "Get me out of here."

"We will. We'll be beaming down as soon as you give us the co-ordinates."

"But Captain..."

"Just give us the numbers..."

The young man swallowed nervously, then gave Kirk the numbers.

II

Britt approached Kirk as he stepped up to the transporter, "Captain, I want to go with you." Like Kirk and the rest of the away team the big newspaperman was dressed in a double-breasted suit and hat. Unlike the rest of them he looked thoroughly comfortable in it.

"I'm sorry, it's too dangerous."

"Captain, I can help you," Britt insisted, "I understand these people."

"Mr. Reid, even though they look like they've stepped out of Earth of the 1940's, they aren't. They're a totally different culture of a totally different world. They're completely alien from what you know."

"You're wrong, Captain. Gangsters are gangsters, no matter what planet or century they hail from. I know how gangs operate. I know how they think."

"Mr. Reid..." Kirk began.

"Spock's right. You can't go in there blasting with 23rd century weapons. That's completely against your prime directive."

"So what do you propose, Britt?" Alicia Meyers said as she entered the transporter room. Kato stood silently beside her, his eyes locked on Britt.

Kirk groaned inwardly when he noticed that Kato was also wearing a 1940's suit. The one saving grace was that Alicia was in her normal filmy ensemble.

"I don't know yet," Britt answered Alicia, "Not until I get the facts. I can't get them stuck on this ship." His eyes met Kato's, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He turned back to Kirk. "Do I have to beg?" he asked.

"No, you don't have to," Kirk replied, "You can come. Maybe you're right. You might be able to give us some insight into this situation."

"I want to do go, too," Kato said, leaving Alicia to stand beside Britt.

"Now wait a minute..." Kirk began, feeling that he was fast losing control of the entire situation. Yet this was exactly what McCoy had been hoping for.

"Kato, you can't possibly go," Alicia said, reaching for Kato's arm.

Kato stepped away from her, "I'm sorry, but where Mr. Reid goes, I go." He shot a questioning look at Kirk.

"Oh, what the hell, the more the merrier," Kirk finally relented. "I just hope I am not going to regret this."

"You won't, Captain," Britt replied as he stepped onto the transporter. Kato was one step behind him.

_I'm regretting it already_, Kirk thought to himself. "I just want you to realize that I am the one in command here. I don't want to see any cowboy heroics on the part of either of you two."

"Of course Captain," Britt replied. Kato nodded his agreement.

"Then I want to go too," Alicia demanded imperiously.

"No!" All three men responded at the same time.

Kirk had to admit to himself that they presented an impressive force when they materialized at the co-ordinates that they had been given. Beside himself, Spock and McCoy, there were four security men plus, of course, Britt Reid and Kato. He found it interesting how everybody had subconsciously arranged themselves. Spock and McCoy had assumed their accustomed places to his right and to his left. Reid and Kato were a few paces behind them, marking themselves as independent from Kirk and his crew, but still with them. Obviously, as was his habit as Reid's right hand man, Kato stood a pace behind him and to his right. Further behind them, automatically scoping out any possible routes of attack and arranging themselves accordingly were the security detail; the biggest and meanest looking men that Scott could find. For further security they had also beamed several men outside the building. One never knew where an attack might come from.

They had beamed into what appeared to be a garage. Two vehicles in different states of disassembly were elevated several meters in the air on platforms supported by sturdy hydraulic pistons. Two more vehicles were pulled into the garage. Beside the huge, gleaming vehicles stood Forlux, and another man they had not met before. The young Federation man stood beside them with a massive plug-ugly behind him. Five other plug-uglies eyed the Federation security detail with sour glowers on their faces.

"I thought you were coming alone," Forlux said as a greeting.

"You think I'm stupid or what?" Kirk retorted harshly, "You think I'm going to step into a situation where several Feds have already been murdered without some back up?"

Forlux shrugged. "You gonna introduce us?" he said nodding toward Kirk's companions.

"Sure," Kirk replied. He gestured toward Spock, "That's 'Brains' Spock, my numbers man. When I need some numbers or something analyzed, he's my man." He gestured toward McCoy who touched a hand to his fedora in greeting, "That there's Doc McCoy." Kirk grinned nastily, "You never know when you or somebody useful is gonna need a Doc." Then he nodded toward Britt and Kato, "That's Britt Reid and his man Kato. You might say that they're observers. They're interested in the way you guys are running the show. Not too impressive at this point, I'd say. And the rest of the guys..." Kirk gave a expressive shrug, "Them you don't really wanna meet.

"Now how about you return the favor, Forlux?" Kirk demanded, "Mind telling me who's the mug with you?"

The man stepped forward, fingering the pencil thin mustache gracing his upper lip. "The name's Lorix. I was deputized by what remains of the council to negotiate for Federation weapons. We can offer a very handsome price for how ever many you can provide. We also can offer some choice pieces of turf that have suddenly become available," he said smoothly.

"We're not interested in what you're selling Lorix, and if we're interested in turf, you can bet we don't have to negotiate for what we want," Kirk replied. "The only thing we're interested is what's going on around here. We don't much like our people being killed. We take it kind of personal. So unless you come up with a few facts that convince us otherwise we just might decide that you guys are the one's behind it all."

Lorix' eyes narrowed, then a slow smile appeared. "Of course," he replied. "I will be glad to explain the situation to you. It started several months ago. A man by the name of Cruxon appeared out of the blue. Nobody has an idea where he comes from. He had a lot of money and used it to buy himself some muscle. That's about typical for a guy who figures he's gonna make a name a for himself. You know, make a few hits here and there, take out a few losers, a few guys who can't cut the mustard anymore. That's what usually happens. It helps keep everybody on their toes and gets rid of anybody who's getting too soft. The problem is that he started making noises like he's gonna be some kind of hotshot warlord or something. The council decided that it was time to teach him a lesson. You know take out a few of his rackets, give him a bloody nose, maybe a black eye, just to teach him that there's a few rules that a guy's gotta follow. Just like you Feds showed us."

Lorix' voice turned grim as he continued, "It was a bloodbath. The morgue couldn't hold all the bodies. Most of the survivors aren't in any better shape either. Some of them was burned so bad that they died soon after and a few of them were left cripples, no use to themselves or any body else for that matter."

"How could that happen?" Mr. Spock asked, "I find it interesting that he was able to muster the amount of firepower sufficient to eliminate the combined forces assembled by the council."

Lorix eyed Spock with a frown. "If you mean how did he do it, I'll tell you. They didn't use no guns like any decent gang does. They had weapons, much like the Feds, except they looked different, and sounded a lot different too. A man's lucky if he's killed right away. Otherwise, it's slow, painful way to die."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Fascinating," was his sole comment.

"What did the Federation mission do?" Kirk asked.

"A group of guys went to talk to them about it," Lorix answered. "They never came back. There was a flash of bright light and they were all gone. Them and the Feds. Nothing was left but a bunch of rubble and bodies, or at least parts of them. It wasn't pretty."

Kirk heard a soft gasp and a curse from McCoy, but remained focused on Lorix. "So you're what's left?" he asked.

"Yeah, me and a few others. We heard that your ship was due in, so we dug in and waited for you guys to show up. Once we get some of your Federation heaters we'll be able to give Cruxon a lesson he'll never forget. Not that he'll be alive to remember it," he added with a nasty grin.

Suddenly a man crashed though a door. Where his right hand should have been was a singed stump. "They're here. Cruxon's men are here!" he screamed before he collapsed to the ground.

McCoy ran to the man, but too late. He was already dead. Through the open door could be heard the quivering sound of phaser fire, the chatter of machine guns and a whining sound that was far too familiar to Kirk.

An Enterprise security man stumbled in, pulling an injured man in with him. "Captain, there's too many of them. We're surrounded. They have disruptors," he shouted, "We can't hold them!"

Other men tumbled through the door behind him. Many of them were from the Enterprise, some weren't. A blood-red beam of light lasered out at Kirk before he could react. Spock pushed him out of the way, as the narrow beam sizzled through the air close enough to singe the hair on his head. As he fell to the ground, Kirk caught a quick glimpse of Kato throwing the attacker to the ground. The entire garage was suddenly filled with fighting men who had discarded hand weapons for old-fashioned fisticuffs.

"I'm getting outta here!" Forlux, shouted above the chaos, as he barreled into one of the waiting cars. Lorix quickly joined him as one of their men slid into the driver's seat. Suddenly finding himself alone, the young Federation man stood where he was, too stunned to do anything.

"Kirk! Kato!" Reid's voice rose out of the middle of the melee, "Take the other car!" he ordered.

Kato jumped into the remaining car, quickly starting its engine with a thought drowning roar.

Fighting down the impulse to argue with Reid about who was in charge, Kirk grabbed McCoy who was torn between helping the wounded and saving his own neck. Spock quickly joined them as they climbed into the car that began moving as soon as they got halfway in. Reid shoved the young Federation man into the back seat with them then climbed into the front with Kato.

Forlux' car crashed through a garage door, sending splinters of glass and wood flying in every direction. Kato drove out right on their tail. Kirk was dismayed to find out that there were more men and cars outside, none of them theirs. The red beams of disruptors sliced through the air around them. One of the beams narrowly hit Forlux' car, making the bumper and a corner of one of the large curving fenders disappear into melted slag. The car swerved under the impact then tilted onto two wheels as it sped around the corner. Kato drove after them, dodging disruptor beams as they careened around the corner. Machine gun fire chattered from a car closely following behind them. Bullets chipped at a wall and pocked the asphalt, narrowly missing their tires.

"Wish we had the Black Beauty," Kato gritted between clenched teeth.

Reid nodded grimly. "Just do your best," he said as he grabbed at the hand bar set above his door.

Even though the back seat was very large, Kirk found himself so tightly packed in with Spock, McCoy and the young man that he couldn't even sway individually with the car's wild gyrations. They moved all together, swaying left and right or all directions between depending on whichever corner they happened to turn. He couldn't even reach for the communicator on his belt to call for help. Mentally he cursed himself for leaving his men at the garage. He hoped that someone had the presence of mind to call for a beam up of the rest of the away team.

Somewhere along the way they had lost Forlux' car, but a bullet zinging through the back window reminded them that they had not lost the enemy car.

"I can't lose them, boss," Kato said, daring a glance in the rear view mirror. "We're too heavily loaded. I don't know my way around this crazy city. We could be circling right back to where we started."

"Excuse me," the young man ventured timidly, "I know where we are."

"You know your way around here?" Kirk asked.

The young man nodded. "Yes, some of the other interns and I are friends with a lot of the young people here."

"Do you know any where we can go to lose these characters?" Reid asked.

"Yes, there's a warehouse district to the north of us. There's a lot of narrow alleyways and an underground loading dock for freight trucks where we can hide. It has doors we could close behind us. We could be safe there."

"That is if they don't follow us," Kirk remarked.

"It's nearly dusk, we might be able to lose them in the dark," the young man suggested, growing bolder.

"Which way's north?" Kato asked.

The young man pointed ahead of them. Reid noted that just as he had mentioned, the sun was starting to go down to their left. A stray thought made him wonder if the sun went down in the west on every planet or did people just naturally called the direction where the sun went down as west. "Head into the sun," he said to Kato, "Maybe we'll be able to lose them in the glare. Then try to work your way northward."

"Will do," Kato replied. Bullets zinged past them, creasing the high roof above their heads. "When the Hell are they going to run out of bullets?"

"Based on their weapons' similarity to the m1928a1 Thompson machine gun used on the Earth during the 1920's and 30's, I would estimate that they are equipped with 100 round drums containing .45 caliber bullets," intruded Spock's dry, emotionless voice. "Considering their rate and constancy of fire, and the fact that they have several weapons of that type on board, I would estimate that they have approximately another fifteen minutes left in which to expend their fire. Unless, of course, they have reserve drums of ammunition, then it would be impossible for me to make an accurate estimate of how much longer they could continue to fire on us without further data."

"Thanks for that piece of information," McCoy growled. "All it takes is one bullet to kill you, whether they have five bullets left or five million."

"I strongly doubt that they could have five million rounds available to them in a single vehicle," Spock responded, "It would take..."

"All right," McCoy interrupted, "I get the message."

Kirk ignored the exchange, concentrating on the road ahead of them. The sun was right in his eyes. He could barely see anything in the blinding glare. There had to be a way to lose their pursuers.

"There!" Reid suddenly shouted.

"Got it, boss," Kato quickly replied as he swung the car into a turn off.

"It's an alley," Kirk exclaimed seeing a brick wall appear too suddenly

in front of them as his sun-blinded eyes tried to adjust. "We're trapped!"

The car screeched to a sudden halt.

Ignoring Kirk, Reid said to Kato, "Just a moment. Wait. Now! Ram them!" he suddenly shouted.

Kato slammed the car into reverse and poured on the gas. Tires smoked and screamed as they barreled out of the alley.

"Hold on!" Kirk called. He had the quick, brief vision of the shocked look on their pursuers' faces moments before they plowed into their vehicle, making it tilt and fall with a resounding crash onto its side.

The bone-jarring shock sent everyone sliding off the back seat. Kirk grabbed at the back of the front seat barely in time to stop himself from flying over it.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Reid called to Kato who quickly sent the vehicle forward with the clashing grind of gears.

Their rear bumper clung for a few yards, bouncing and clattering, sending sparks flying every time it hit the road. Finally it was gone, invisible as night fell.

"Everybody okay?" Reid asked, finally noticing the passengers in the back seat.

"Sure," McCoy growled, nursing a purpling bruise on his forehead, "As long somebody gets the number of the Mack Truck that hit us."

Reid nodded with a crooked smile. "I'd be surprised if you even knew what a Mack truck was."

"Of course I do, 'course they're all in museums now, but now I know what the saying means. Damn. Couldn't you have at least given a man enough warning so'd he'd be prepared to have his brains scattered all over hell's half acre."

"Captain? Mr. Spock?" Reid asked.

"I believe I have not suffered any injuries, Mr. Reid, although I do find myself agreeing with Doctor McCoy's assessment," came Spock's precise reply.

"I'm fine," Kirk added, "Although I might have second thoughts about riding in a car again with the two of you."

"What about you, young man?" Reid asked.

"I'm fine, sir," was his reply.

"Good, how about you tell us where to find this underground garage?"

The young man frowned. "Couldn't we just beam up?"

"Kirk?" Reid asked.

"I'd rather wait until we got somewhere safe."

"Agreed," Reid responded. "Young man... by the way what's your name?"

"Xavier Smith, sir."

"Okay, Xavier, the underground garage..."

III

Dark had fully fallen by the time they finally limped to the garage that Xavier had told them about. Britt was stunned to see the words _Weekly Sentinel_, written on the sign over the large wooden door. "Is this a newspaper?" he asked the young man.

"Yes, sir," he replied, "My, uh, girlfriend's sister runs it."

"Her sister?"

"Yes, sir," Xavier he said as he pressed the buzzer set beside the door, "I guess her husband was killed or something."

"Or something," Britt said thoughtfully.

"What's the big idea?" demanded the petite red head that came to the door. "Can't you guys at least let people have a decent night's sleep?"

Then recognizing Xavier, her eyes widened, "Xavier, Sis and I thought you were a goner." She took in the others, including the pointed-eared Spock. "They're Feds, too, aren't they?"

"Yes, these men are from the starship Enterprise," he answered. "Cruxon's men are after us. We need a place to hide until the ship can pick us up."

"Of course," the girl answered, "Help me with the door, and we'll get everybody in out of sight."

For the first time in a very long time Britt felt at home. The large underground garage was filled with newspaper delivery trucks and large rolls of newsprint. It could have almost been home.

"This is Cassidy," Xavier explained introducing the girl to the men, who smiled at them as each was introduced to her.

"And I'm Linda," said a slender blonde who came down the stairs. Even though she was dressed in workmen's pants and an oversized flannel shirt she was still very attractive. Less attractive was the sawed off shotgun she pointed at the intruders. "Why are you here? Or should I guess/"

"I'm sorry, Linda," said Xavier, "We don't want to get you involved..."

"But it looks like you have," she finished for him. "I really should throw you all out, I've seen enough trouble already."

"But you can't," Cassidy protested, "They'd only get killed like the rest of the Feds."

"And I should care?" Linda bitterly answered, "We have enough of our own troubles. We don't need to borrow any more."

"I can understand you don't want to get involved..." Kirk began.

"Involved?" Linda shot back to him. "I'm already involved. Have been ever since my late husband got it into his head that a mere newspaper could change things. Should've known better. You can't fight the system."

"Sometimes you can," Britt said.

"What do you know about it?" she sharply asked him.

"I used to have a paper of my own. I know how hard it is to fight against a unjust system."

"And what happened to your paper?"

"I, uh, lost it," Britt said sadly. He sighed. "I miss having a fresh newspaper in my hands."

"Well, I can sell you one cheap if you're interested."

"Would you?"

"Got a nickel and I'll sell you the whole kit and kaboodle," Linda said flippantly.

"Really?" Britt asked, looking into her eyes.

Quickly dropping her gaze, Linda considered the ground at her feet, "No, not really. There's times I just want to chuck it all, but..." She shook her head, visibly gathering herself before meeting Britt's intense gaze. "The Sentinel is the only thing I have to remember Jax by," she said wistfully. "It was his dream. He wanted to change things. He was tired of the gangs and the way they ran things. People don't have any say in their lives. And the turf wars, that's the worse. That's what killed him. Somebody shot a Thunder road cocktail into our old office. He was trying to save the presses. The presses didn't get hurt much, but Jax... There's burns a body can't survive."

"I understand," Britt said gently, "I lost my father to a gang, too. They don't like people who show them for the slime they really are."

"Mr. Reid," Captain Kirk interrupted. "I've contacted the Enterprise. It's time to leave."

"Linda..." Britt began.

"Go back to your ship," she answered. "But..."

"But what?"

"Don't be a stranger."

IV

Kirk glumly considered the people assembled around the conference table in his ready room. "Well, I've just heard from Star Fleet. They're ordering us to retrieve any surviving Federation members and then leave as soon as possible."

"But Captain," Scotty blurted out, "That can't be right. Those men you were fighting were using disruptors. There's only one source for disruptors..."

"I know Scotty, so does Star Fleet, but there's no proof that the Klingons are directly involved. As far as Star Fleet is concerned it's an internal dispute. It would violate the Prime Directive if we got mixed up in it."

"But Captain," Scotty said, "It's obvious..."

"I know it is," Kirk replied, "but without proof there's nothing we can do. If there are Klingons on the planet they're keeping themselves well hidden. There's no sign of any ships orbiting Iotia, or at least nobody's slipped long enough for us to detect one uncloaking. Our hands are tied."

Kirk noticed that Reid and Kato were arguing in hushed voices between themselves. "Would you gentlemen mind sharing your thoughts or is it something you'd rather discuss outside?" he asked.

Reid rose to his feet, "I'm sorry Captain, Kato and I were discussing something."

"Which is?"

Taking a deep breath, Reid continued, "Kato and I are experienced in getting proof in ways not available to the authorities."

"The Green Hornet?" Kirk asked.

"Yes," Reid replied. "We've dealt with gangs before. All it takes is asking the right questions in the right places."

"Impossible," Kirk replied. "As I said, it would be violating the Prime Directive. Star fleet can't get involved in internal power disputes."

"But you can't leave the situation like it is," Reid retorted. "Those people want a change. They're tired of the gang warfare that has being going on all of their lives. We can't turn our backs on them. Especially not now. I don't know who the hell these Klingons are, but they sure don't seem to give a damn about your precious Prime Directive. If you leave now what is going to happen to the people of Iotia if these Klingons succeed in taking over the planet?"

Kirk shook his head. He couldn't look into Reid's eyes.

"It's not pretty," McCoy supplied. "Enslavement. Draconian laws and death for those who refuse to obey. Depending on what the Klingons want from the planet, it could become nothing but an empty shell in a few decades."

"Captain..." Reid began.

"My hands are tied," Kirk replied.

"Mine aren't," Reid said, "Beam us down to Iotia and we'll get you that proof you need."

"I can't. As members of the Federation...

"Kato and I are not members of the Federation. We are not constrained by the Prime Directive."

"Strictly speaking," Spock said, "Mr. Reid is correct. He and Kato are not members of Star Fleet or for that matter the Federation . They were born long before the existence of either organization and as such cannot be considered to be subject to the policies of those groups."

"So you think their plan could work?" Kirk asked.

"It is difficult to come to any kind of assessment until I have more information concerning the plan they are proposing, however at this point in time it seems to be the only viable way of getting the information we need to prove Klingon involvement in the destruction of the Federation mission."

"Mr. Reid, I believe that is a vote in your favor," Kirk said, "What is your plan and what will you need?"

"Kato and I will find out about the surviving gang leaders, especially those who have thrown in with this new guy, Cruxon. We have to present the Green Hornet as a possible threat to him, or at least somebody he needs to deal with personally. Once we meet with him, we'll decide where to go from there. As for what we'll need..." Reid glanced over to Kato.

"For one thing," Kato said, "We'll need the Black Beauty..."

"Is she ready?" Reid asked.

Kato grinned. "She sure is. Mr. Scott did a great job of restoring her. All we need to do is arm her and she'll be ready to go."

"What about those disruptors?" Reid asked. "They look like they're related to phasers. Anyway we can enhance the Black Beauty's armor against them? We once used a paint for space capsule heat shields on the Beauty to make her impervious to a laser. Would something like that work against phasers or disruptors?"

"No," Scotty replied, "A disruptor would reduce your car to slag."

"Any suggestions?"

"Well," Scotty said thoughtfully, "We could rig a wee shield generator on her. It would be small, not very powerful, but, yes... I think we could work something up. The car's big and with a little work, I think we can squeeze one that'll be good against a hand disruptor."

"Good, that'll take care of the car," Reid said encouragingly.

"What about you?" Kato asked. "The Sting and gas gun were on you when the aliens picked us up. They weren't in the Beauty, so we have no idea what happened to them. You can't go into action without some kind of weapons."

Britt smiled. "I think between the two of us and the Enterprise's replicators I think we can come up with some fair approximations. What do you think, Kato? Mr. Scott?"

Scott grinned proudly, "Anything ye can dream of, I can do."

"Good," Reid said. "Get on it."

Scott and Kato headed for the door.

"Uhhh, gentlemen," Kirk began.

"Sorry, Captain," Scott said sheepishly as he froze in his tracks..

"I'm sorry, Captain," Reid said, "I didn't mean to take over your meeting."

"Forget it. Okay, people, it sounds like we have a plan here. Uhura?"

"Take care of Star Fleet?"

"Right. Let them know that there will be a few delays. We're having some problems locating the survivors of the Federation mission."

"Of course, Captain. I take it we will also be having problems with local sun spot activity interfering with subspace communications?"

"When's the last time we used that excuse?" Kirk asked.

Uhura thought for a moment. "Might be a little too soon to use it again, but I'll think of something else."

"Good."

"Mr. Spock, I'll need you to work with Mr. Reid and Kato. Give them any help they need."

"Yes, Captain." Spock replied as he rose out of his seat.

McCoy remained seated until everyone had left. Arms crossed against his chest, Kirk regarded him. "Well, you wanted Reid out of his shell."

"So I did," McCoy said as he leaned back in his seat, "But something's bugging you and not just because he took over your meeting."

"You're right that's not what's bothering me. Actually I kind of expected it."

"Then what is it?

"What if they find proof that the Klingons are involved?"

"We take care of the Klingons."

"How?"

"That a problem?"

"I'm afraid so. Do we go in, phasers firing and take out the Klingons? Then what happens to the disruptors? What if other gangsters, Iotian ones, I mean, has those weapons. What then? Do we then provide phasers to their competitors to maintain a balance of power?"

Shaking his head, McCoy frowned.

"Not a pretty picture, is it?" Kirk said.

"Not at all. You have any suggestions?"

"None," was Kirk's unhappy reply.

McCoy rose and placed a hand on Kirk's shoulder, "Why don't we go into my office and contemplate the vagaries of the universe over a tall Kentucky bourbon? I'm sure that when the time comes the right solution will present itself. "

"You sure?

"It's always happened before."

**Chapter Four**

The Green Hornet Strikes

I

Lorix thoughtfully fingered his mustache as he poured himself another four fingers of whiskey. It was smooth stuff, the best bootleg money could buy. The normal man in the street couldn't even hope to get a taste of it. It burned his throat

as it went down, setting a fire in his belly. Over the rim of the glass he found himself looking into icy green eyes set in a rock hard face. The glass in his hand fell to the desk, covering it with amber liquid.

"How'd the hell you get past my men?" he demanded of the green masked man.

The masked man shrugged carelessly. "You need a better class of thugs. My granny could've taken care of that bunch."

The door behind the masked man slammed open as one of Lorix' men flew through it. He laid still at the feet of a slender man clad in a black chauffeur's uniform and matching mask. "We missed one, boss," he said to the man in green.

"Who the hell are you? What d'you want?" Lorix demanded.

"I want names, Lorix. I want to know the names of those who have joined Cruxon. I want to know how to find them," the green masked man answered.

"Yeah, sure and what'll I put on your grave?"

A hard smile appeared on the intruder's face. "I suggest you think about your own grave marker, my friend."

"Nobody talks to me like that!" Lorix shouted exploding from his chair as he pulled a gun from a drawer. Suddenly he screamed and dropped the gun. A small green winged dart had imbedded itself in his hand.

"Good move, Lorix," the green masked man said. "Tell Cruxon, there's a new force in town, the Green Hornet."

"You can tell him yourself, if you live long enough," Lorix growled.

"I will," the man replied, "You can bet on that." He pointed a green colored gun at Lorix. "Sleep tight," he said as green gas whispered from the gun.

Lorix gasped as he collapsed to the floor.

"So you think he's one of Cruxon's men?" Kato asked as the Green Hornet as he slipped a small bug under the edge of Lorix' desk.

"We'll see," the Green Hornet replied.

II

_Captain's personal log, Stardate 6667.18. An amazing transformation has come over Britt Reid and Kato. They are no longer at each other's throats but are instead a smoothly functioning unit. They seem to anticipate each other actions without even a glance or gesture. Reid is no longer the lost man I knew, but one who is extremely assured and confident of what he is doing. He is totally in his element, while I feel like I am completely out of mine. _

_I wonder if the future will damn us for what we are doing. I'm sure Starfleet would court martial the lot of us if they knew about it. Despite Spock's logical assessment I have the sneaking feeling that we are violating the Prime Directive. If not in word, at least in spirit. I find myself wondering if I am not unleashing a greater danger onto the people of Iotia than already exists._

_Could history have been right when it called the Green Hornet a master criminal?_

"What do you think, Captain?" Reid asked Kirk as he looked up from the small speaker in front of him. After the Green Hornet's visit to Lorix they had assembled in an office building near Lorix's place. Reid and Kato had removed their masks but had stayed in their uniforms; Kato in his black chauffeur's outfit and Reid in a dark midnight green overcoat.

"Sounds like Lorix is making an awful lot of phone calls," Kirk answered.

"Sounds like that to me, too," Reid said, "It looks like he's setting up a meeting."

"No mention of including Cruxon, though," Kato commented.

"I noticed that too_. _Could be we were wrong about Lorix being in with Cruxon?" Reid said.

"Too bad, if that's true," Kato said, "He looks like the kind of slime ball who would betray his own kind to get ahead."

"I agree," Reid said thoughtfully_. _"Captain?"

"Hard to tell," Kirk said, "Could be that he's setting up another attack on the rest of the opposition to Cruxon."

Reid nodded slowly as he considered what Kirk had said. "That is a definite possibility. Either way that meeting will be a way to smoke Cruxon out."

"Meaning?" Kirk said, knowing the answer even before Reid said it.

A tight smile appeared on Reid's face, "Meaning the Green Hornet will be there."

Kato had followed the others out of the room, but a slight movement heading down another corridor had caught his eye. Knowing that it was something he needed to take care of himself, he let the others go ahead of him.

"Alicia," he said to the shadow waiting for him at the far end of the corridor.

"How did you ever figure it was me, lover?" she said as she stepped into the dim light of the single light in the hallway. "Was it my perfume?" she asked coyly.

"No," he answered, "Although it is at times a dead giveaway," he admitted.

"Perhaps there's a psychic connection between us," she suggested.

"Could be," he said, not wanting to say that the unease that he had always felt around her had grown to a distinct loathing. "How did you get down here," he asked instead.

"You've been so distant, dear. Was it something I've said or done?" she said, not answering his question.

"I've been busy."

"I thought you had put all that Green Hornet foolishness behind you."

"It's not foolishness," Kato answered defensively.

"You're kidding yourself if you believe that, darling. Don't you see that you've fallen back into that old pattern again? I thought we had talked about it. That you were tired of following Reid around. That you were going to be your own man from now on. We have great plans for you."

"We," Kato echoed thoughtfully. "That means you and that Crispin guy, doesn't it?"

"You have such a bright future ahead of you, Kato."

"If I would just turn my back on Mr. Reid and the people of this planet..."

"What does he mean to you, or them or Kirk? What does any of them mean to you?" she asked. "You have to think about yourself. And," she added smoothly, "And about us."

"Is there really an 'us' or is there only a 'you'?" Kato asked, "Or is it you and your ambitious Mr. Crispin."

"You wound me," Alicia replied with a hurt pout on her beautiful face, "Of course there is an 'us'. How could you ever doubt that?"

"And Crispin?"

"He's merely a means to an end."

"Am I merely a means to an end, too?" Kato asked. "What happens to me when I've served my usefulness?"

"Really, Kato, dear, you shouldn't talk like that."

Kato sighed, _Britt had been right_. "It's over, Alicia."

"It's not over until I say it's over," Alicia hissed angrily, "You're not going to spoil things by playing this silly game of Reid's." She forced a smile as she stepped closer to Kato. She kissed him, then pulled slightly away. "Surely you realize that your future with me is a lot brighter than anything you could have with Reid. Or," she paused meaningfully, "Does he attract you in another way?"

Kato angrily grabbed her hands away from him, "Don't ever talk like that," he growled. "The only reason why I follow Mr. Reid is because I know what he does is right. No matter how difficult or painful it is, I know that whatever path he takes it's the path of honor. I strongly doubt it if you even know the meaning of honor."

Alicia whirled away from him, "Remember that not everyone sees honor in what you, Reid and Kirk are doing." A nasty smile spread slowly as her eyes filled with hate, "I wonder what Starfleet will think of what's going on here." Laughing at the thought, she pressed a large jeweled pin on her shoulder.

Kato lunged for her as she and her laughter disappeared into a golden shimmer of light.

Later inside the Weekly Sentinel's garage, as they prepared the Black Beauty for the night's outing, Kato and Britt Reid discussed with Kirk, McCoy and Spock Alicia's appearance. And disappearance.

"So, Kirk," Britt asked, "What do you think?"

"I'm sure she has some kind of subspace transmitter on board. I'll have Uhura look out for it," Kirk said, "If we're able to catch her signal, we'll jam it."

"It might be too late," Kato said. "What'll Starfleet do if they hear about what we're doing?"

"They'll probably court martial the lot of us," Kirk answered.

"If we don't show that the Klingons are involved," Britt commented thoughtfully. "But if we do show that they are...?"

With wry smile, Kirk answered, "You know the answer to that."

Britt nodded. "Nothing succeeds like success."

"Exactly."

"So we'll stay the course," Kato concluded for them.

"Nice to hear that three of you have decided the fate of our people," Linda broke in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," Britt said.

"Would that have changed things?" she asked bitterly. "Do you Feds think that because you come from outer space it gives you the right to decide things for us? We aren't children, you know."

"We know the Iotians aren't children," Kirk answered.

"But you figure we can't make decisions for ourselves," she said.

"You don't understand," Kirk said.

"Then explain it me," she demanded crossing her arms across her chest. "I take it you're not really Feds."

"Well, actually, you could kind of think of us as Feds, but more precisely we're part of an association of united planets called the United Federation of Planets, the Federation for short. I'm the captain of a Star Ship called the U.S.S. Enterprise. Our job is to seek out new planets and civilizations. To make first contact."

"And after you make first contact, is it policy for you to pretend that you're something that you're not. Do you spy on people and then go home and snicker how funny and quaint they are?" she asked.

"No," Kirk replied, "Nor do we try to change their cultures. That's the most important part of the Enterprise's mission. We respect every culture we encounter and never try to interfere with that culture's normal development."

"So what are you doing here? Why are you pretending you're some kind of Fed?"

"Because that was the role your people gave us. The first people we met thought we were the Feds, members of a governmental police agency when we said we were from the Federation."

"And you figured it was okay not correct that. That it was okay to let us believe a lie?"

"No, not really, but it was decided that the impact on your society was less if we stayed with the identity that was assigned to us."

"And then what? What were you planning for Iotia? What was the real purpose of the Federation mission here?"

"Trade, primarily."

"Primarily? What else?"

"Have you ever wondered about your history?" Kirk asked, "Have you ever how your society became the way it was?"

"Well... there was The Book," she began thoughtfully, then her eyes widened in realization. "The Book. What do you know about The Book?"

"About a hundred years ago a ship from Earth, one of the planets of the Federation, crash landed on this planet. One of the things on the ship was a book about gangsters of an earlier era. For some unknown reason the book influenced the Iotians so much that they based their entire society on it."

"So because of that book, our people condemned themselves to constant warfare in the streets..."

"That was the situation we found when the Enterprise first hailed Iotia, but even then things were changing. The leaders of the gangs were getting tired of the constant violence. The Enterprise served only as a catalyst for changing into a more peaceful society..."

"But one that is still ruled by the gangs..."

"The Federation can provide guidance, but in the end it is up to your people to change your society."

"Or die trying."

Kirk sighed unhappily, "Sometimes, yes, but would you rather have it any other way? Would you want the Federation to dictate to you how to run your own world?"

"No, I guess not. But these, what did you call them? Klingons? What about them? I take it that they are not part of your Federation."

"No, they aren't. The Federation and the Klingons have been enemies for a long time. They're members of a culture that lives only for conquest. They conquer other planets or solar systems, taking what they want from them and then ruling over the subject peoples with an iron hand. We're sure that they are the ones behind Cruxon, but we can't interfere unless we have proof."

Linda turned to Britt, "Is that where you come in?" she asked. "You're not really with Captain Kirk, are you?"

"No, not really. You might say that Kato and I are merely strays that the good Captain and his crew happened to pick up along the way."

"And yet you're going along with this, even though you two are risking your necks for people you don't even know."

"The only thing that matters to me is to right injustices. If I can prevent the enslavement of your people, then I am willing to do whatever needs to be done."

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't know, but I couldn't do otherwise." Britt shrugged, at a loss as to how to explain his feelings when he couldn't explain them to himself. "All I know is that I can't turn my back when someone needs to be helped."

"Jax felt that way too," Linda sadly. "It killed him."

Britt nodded his understanding. "He was a brave man."

"And what will you do when you have taken care of Cruxon and these Klingons? I know Captain Kirk and the rest of the Feds will go back their ship. But what about you and Kato?"

Britt glanced over to Kato who avoided his gaze. "I don't know about Kato, he may go with the ship when it leaves. But me, I don't know."

"You don't belong with them," Linda asserted.

"Then where do you think I belong?"

"I don't know," she answered softly. She turned away to leave, then turned back toward them. "Be careful in that black car of yours, Britt," she said before leaving.

III

Forlux scanned the men gathered around the long table. Drinks had been poured all around, but none had been touched. There were a lot fewer of them then there used to be. Worse was that the air itself stank of fear and distrust.

"Curse it all," Forlux growled, "It's time we start fighting back."

"How to you propose to do that?" Lorix asked, the only one who seemed to be untouched by the disasters around him.

"I dunno, there gotta be a way." Forlux answered. Even he could feel the desperation setting in. "Look at us, we used to the lords of all we surveyed, and now we're just a bunch of beaten wusses."

"Maybe we should just throw in with Cruxon," Maxor, the oldest of the surviving gang leaders suggested listlessly. He used to be the toughest of them all, now he was grey with fatigue. "It's either that or die."

The others started murmuring their agreement.

"Sure, go right ahead, you do that," Forlux growled at them, "You all do that. You all become Cruxon's lap dogs. See what that gets you. Cruxon stinks to the high heavens. I don't know who's behind him, but they're not of our planet. That much I do know. He got those screamers from somebody and you can be cursed sure that when the bill comes due it's gonna be sky high. Maybe more than any one of us is willing to pay."

"What d'you think?" Maxor asked Lorix.

Lorix's face wrinkled into a thoughtful frown. "You got a point there. So does Forlux. I don't much trust Cruxon. Like Forlux, I wonder where he got those screamers, but I'm a practical man. I'd rather be on the side of the winners instead of the losers. Especially when losing means dying."

"A wise choice, my friend," a harsh voice interrupted Lorix, "Of course it all depends on who the winners are. Doesn't it?"

"The Green Hornet!" Lorix gasped as the green masked man sauntered into the room. Kato walked silently behind, his black eyes taking in the men sitting at the table.

"I'm glad you remember me," the Green Hornet replied easily.

Forlux snatched his gun out, aiming for the Green Hornet. The black cylinder that the Green Hornet had been holding in his hands suddenly expanded to full length and emitted an ear splitting whine. The Hornet sting's sonic waves sent the Forlux's gun flying across the room.

"Damn you!" Forlux growled, cradling his stung hand in his uninjured one. "I oughta..."

"We can settle our differences later," the Green Hornet interrupted smoothly.

The Green Hornet's pale green eyes regarded the gangsters as he walked around the table. "So this is what's left. 'Losers' is right."

"Now wait a minute," Forlux growled at the Hornet. He settled back into his chair, thinking twice about lunging at him as the Hornet sting was aimed at his chest. "If the cursed Feds would..."

"Would what?" the Hornet snapped at him. "You think they're going to waste their time on a bunch of two-bit operators like you?"

"We need heaters..." Maxor protested, "We can't go against the stuff Cruxon has. If the Feds would give us what we need..."

"And what are you going to with them? Shoot yourselves in the foot. Or maybe just shoot each other?"

"If the Feds aren't going to do anything about it..." Maxor began.

"Why the do you think they have to do anything? Perhaps it would be better if they just deal with Cruxon instead. He seems to be the only one who knows what he's doing."

"Cruxon nothing's but a patsy..." Forlux said.

"Patsy," the Green Hornet said sharply, "Whose patsy is he?"

"Don't know," Forlux answered sullenly.

The Green Hornet grabbed the lapels of Forlux's coat, "You lie," he growled, "You said 'patsy'. You know there's somebody behind him."

"Some guys," Forlux stammered out, "Just some guys. That's all I know."

"I've seen them," Maxor ventured uneasily.

"What do they look like?" the Green Hornet demanded.

"They'll kill me," Maxor said fearfully. "I've seen them. It ain't pretty what they do."

The Green Hornet released his hold on Forlux's lapels and strode over to tower over the older man. In a deathly quiet voice he said, "They're not here now. I am. Do you really want to chance defying me?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Lorix asked. "You come in here with your man and that funny gadget and you expect us to kiss the ground you walk on. I'm not buying."

"You're a brave man," the Green Hornet replied, glaring at Lorix, "I could squash you like a bug, but," the Green Hornet nodded to himself, then continued, "But you do have a point. Not that I owe you even the time of the day, it is a good idea if you clearly understand where I stand. You might say that I'm an enforcer..."

"Then you're with the Feds..." Maxor began hopefully.

"You might say that," the Green Hornet admitted, "The Feds like to keep their hands clean. When they discover backwater planets like yours, they don't like to get their hands dirty dealing with the natives. They expect people like you to keep everybody happy and make sure that the tribute is there when they want it. But you've dropped the ball. People aren't happy with the way you're running the place and now you're folding up like a bunch of wet cards because of this Cruxon."

"That's where I come in," he continued, "I clean up the messes other people make. I don't especially like messes, but the Feds give me a lot of leeway. So if I leave a few bodies lying around..." the Green Hornet ended his sentence with an expressive shrug.

He turned to Maxor, his voice as smooth as oil, "So you said you've seen Cruxon's puppet masters. What do they look like?"

Maxor's eyes slitted as he nervously considered the other men at table. "I was there when they took out the Feds. They're almost like us, but they aren't. They're swarthy with funny looking eyes, bushy eyebrows and long thin mustaches. They didn't speak any language I ever heard of before. They kind of sounded they was gargling. I... I think they're aliens of some kind..."

The Green Hornet pulled out some pictures out of his breast pocket and threw them onto the table in front of Maxor. "You see anything that looks like them in these pictures?"

Maxor shuffled through pictures of Andorians, Vulcans, Romulans and other species known to the Federation until he finally settled on one of a group of Klingons. He slid the picture across the table to the Green Hornet. "That's kind of what they look like," he said, "but..."

"But..." the Green Hornet pressed.

"But there's other ones with them too."

"Any of them in those other pictures?"

"Nope. They dress in the same kind of uniforms, and look kind of close, but they got real high foreheads that's got ridges on them. Kind of warty looking, you know."

The Green Hornet considered the picture for a few moments before showing it to Kato, who nodded his agreement.

"You know them?" Forlux demanded.

"Yeah," the Green Hornet answered. "They're trouble, big trouble."

"So what d'ya expect us to do about them?" Forlux demanded.

"Arrange for a meeting for Cruxon, his backers and me. Once I get the proof of these characters' involvement, the Feds will take it from there."

"We can handle them on our own," Forlux protested.

"Like you've been doing so far?" the Green Hornet shot back to him.

Forlux looked away from the Green Hornet seeming to have suddenly found the drink in front of him very interesting.

"I thought so," the Green Hornet said.

"How do you expect us to set up this meeting?" Lorix asked.

"I'm sure you'll find a way," the Green Hornet answered.

"And once we set up this meeting, that is if we do, how will we get a hold of you?"

The Green Hornet nodded to Kato who tossed a communicator to Lorix. "Just flip it open, it'll open a channel to the Federation ship. They'll know how to contact me."

IV

"What do you think, Boss?" Kato asked as they watched from the Black Beauty's hiding spot in an alleyway facing the building where the gangsters had held their meeting.

"I don't think we'll have long to wait," the Green Hornet said as he checked the fluid level of the gas cartridge from the Hornet gas gun. He slid it back into the gun with a loud snap.

"What about these characters this Maxor was describing. Sounds like there's somebody else involved besides those Klingons Captain Kirk was telling us about."

"Don't matter much who or what they are. All that matters is what side they're on."

"You have a point there," Kato admitted. He nodded as a man stepped furtively from the building's side door. "Looks like he doesn't want anybody to see him."

"Looks like a guilty conscience to me," the Green Hornet agreed. "Wait until he hits the sidewalk."

The light from a nearby street light hit the man as a car pulled up to the curb.

"Maxor," Kato said. "I would've thought it was Lorix or even Forlux."

"So would've I," the Green Hornet agreed. "We'll use the Hornet scanner to track them. The Black Beauty's too different to be able to tail them without being noticed." He titled the control panel out from the back of the front seat. Turning on a small television screen, he said, "Active the scanner generator."

Kato flipped open the armrest between the driver and passenger seats in the front. He pressed a button and a low hum came from the Black Beauty's trunk. At the toggling of a switch, the Hornet scanner, a small remote camera looking like a miniature satellite, rose from its berth through a pair of small doors set in the trunk.

"I have it," the Green Hornet said as the scanner whirled off its launch pad.

Keeping well behind the lead car, the Green Hornet and Kato followed it through the city streets. "This is too easy," Kato commented.

The Green Hornet frowned his agreement. "Keep sharp," he said even though that went without saying. "I'm turning on the shields." A dim, shimmering glow appeared around the Black Beauty.

"I hope they not going to drag us down too much," the Green Hornet commented feeling a drop in the Black Beauty's power.

"Mr. Scott said she has plenty to spare," Kato answered.

"I hope so," the Green Hornet said doubtfully.

Suddenly they were enveloped in a nimbus of blinding light and deafening sound. "We're hit!" Kato exclaimed, fighting the Black Beauty as it swerved under the impact.

"Lose them!" the Green Hornet ordered.

For a breath-catching moment the Black Beauty hesitated, then smoothly picked up speed. No longer blinded, they could see two big beetling vehicles charging up fast behind them. The Black Beauty swept around a corner and hitting a stretch of straight road, easily pulled ahead of them. Disruptor fire lanced out at them, singeing the road too close for comfort.

"You got to do something about them," Kato said, "I don't know how much we can take."

"I hear you," the Green Hornet said. He pressed a pair of switches and the rocket pods set in the Black Beauty's rear bumper opened.

Twin rockets flashed out, skimming low to the ground, smoke trails snaking behind as they flew to their targets. One rocket hit, sending the heavy vehicle toppling onto its side. The other vehicle swerved out of the way barely in time. Its huge curving front fender was seared by the rocket's passage, but otherwise was unharmed. The beam of a disruptor slashed out from the car, narrowly missing the Black Beauty, instead turning a nearby fire hydrant into a melted fountain of geysering water.

The Black Beauty pulled well ahead, just in time to pick up two more pursuers. Chattering machine gun fire joined the disruptor blasts from the remaining original pursuer. Bullets popped against the Black Beauty's bullet proof skin as the shield scintillated in sympathy to the disruptor blasts.

Another pair of ports opened in Black Beauty's rear bumper and slick oil gushed out onto the roadway. The pursuers slid and crashed into each other or rebounded into walls. More cars joined the chase that was quickly reaching the city's outskirts. There were too many. The Black Beauty was quickly running out of rockets as pursuers were replaced as soon as they were eliminated. All thought of tracking Maxor was forgotten in the effort to stay alive. The shields were eating up too much of the Black Beauty resources, but could not be shut off even through they were weakening under the constant barrage.

The Black Beauty suddenly ground in a gravel scattering halt. It was all over. A large tree had been felled across the road and behind it were several men armed with disruptors. There was no where else to go.

A man stepped out from behind the fallen tree and stood in front of the Black Beauty. Tall, with thick, marcelled blonde hair he regarded the car with a big grin. "The name's Cruxon. I hear you've been wanting to talk to me."

**Chapter Five**

**Endgame**

I

The Green Hornet stepped out of the Black Beauty to face Cruxon. "You might say that," he said. "I've heard that you're the new head honcho around here."

"I'm working on it," Cruxon answered. He looked the Green Hornet up and down, then looked at the Black Beauty meaningfully. "People are saying that you're an enforcer for the Feds."

The Green Hornet nodded slightly. "You could say that I'm an enforcer. You could also say that I'm the trash man. I clean up other people's messes and throw out the trash."

Cruxon's eyes narrowed as his grin faded. "I think you're the one who's going out with the trash this time."

A small confident smile appeared on the Green Hornet's face. "The day's still young, you never know what might come from the heavens."

"I have help from that direction myself," Cruxon answered tightly.

"So I've heard."

Cruxon snapped his fingers at his men, "Take them with us." he ordered as they came toward the Green Hornet and the Black Beauty." He glared at the Green Hornet, "You can come with us peacefully or in pieces. I don't care which."

Surrounded by enemy vehicles, the Black Beauty pulled up in front of a long, low log cabin. Behind it, under tall pine trees were several smaller cabins arranged in a square. A faded neon sign identified the place as the Ittibittiwassame Motor Court.

The Green Hornet stepped out of the Black Beauty followed by a nattily dressed gunman in a black pin-stripped suit. Urged by the waving of the gunman's nickel-plated revolver, Kato reluctantly followed suit. Cruxon impatiently waited for them to join him on the pebbled walkway leading up to the building's front porch. Beside him stood Maxor who pointedly avoided the Green Hornet's gaze.

"How does it feel to betray your own people, Maxor?" the green masked man asked him.

"A man's gotta do what he gotta do," Maxor whined, "Wait until you're old like me. Then you'll see what it's like."

The Green Hornet snorted. "You have no idea how old I really am, my friend."

The inside of the cabin was as rustic as the outside with knotty pine paneled walls decorated with the heads of strange animals. Some of them were easily identified as antlered or horned herbivores similar to terran deer, others with huge, sharp-toothed grimaces could only be predators, dangerous ones judging by the number and size of their teeth. Scattered among the stuffed animals were several antique appearing rifles and other types of weapons. Not so antique looking were a few large crescent shaped bladed weapons that shone brightly in the room's dim light from their places on the wall.

A large man turned around as they came into the room. Dressed in a black uniform decorated with a chain mail sash, he looked with his swarthy skin, long thin mustache and beard more like a rider of the Mongolian plains than one who had spanned the light years in a starship. Another man stood next to him, taller and more heavily built, he sported a great mane of thick black hair and a high-ridged forehead.

The man in the sash glowered at Cruxon. "What is the meaning of this?"

"General Krang," Cruxon said him, "These are the masked Federation trouble-makers we have been hearing about."

"Why did you bring them here?" Krang demanded.

"I thought you might want to question them," Cruxon answered. "They might have useful information about the Federation's plans."

"I have no use for them," Krang answered," You should have killed them." Then he thoughtfully studied the Green Hornet and Kato for a moment. "Why do you go masked? Is it to hide your shame, Federation dog?" he demanded with a sneer.

"Our reasons are our own," the Green Hornet said, "But," he added, "Perhaps it is you who should go masked after the mess you've made of this situation."

Krang struck the Green Hornet across the face, sending him staggering, "Insolent dog!" he growled.

Quickly regaining his balance, the Green Hornet waved Kato away before he could move on the Klingon commander. He gingerly touched his split lip, then fearlessly returned Krang's glare. "No matter what you do to us, it's too late. It was bad enough you resorted to using disruptors instead of being satisfied with conventional weapons, but you had to compound your stupidity by destroying the Federation mission. Did you honestly think they would let a blood bath like that go unavenged?"

"He's right," agreed the other Klingon. "I told the council that all this sneaking around was a waste of time. Worse, there is no honor in it. Battle is the only acceptable way for a warrior people, not denying our proud heritage by assuming the appearance of lesser races."

"Honor!" Krang snapped back, "Commander Grolog, if it was up to your people, the Klingzhai would still be battling in the mud with axes and knives. We would have never reached the stars."

"Bah!" Grolog retorted angrily, "You forget it was our people who developed warp technology. It was yours who decided to foolishly hand it over to the Romulans during the regrettable period they were our allies."

"_Your_ people developed warp technology?" Krang retorted angrily, "How typical of your kind. You create history as it suits you. There is so much bone in your head that there is no room for brains. If it hadn't been for _my_ people making peace with the Romulans and picking their brains we would be the conquered instead of the conqueror. Tell me what honor is that in being a conquered people?"

Ignoring Krang's remark, Grolog growled at him, "My people may have to pay homage to yours now, but the time will come when your entire race will be nothing but a rumor." He looked over to where the Green Hornet and Kato stood listening carefully to their argument, "If you are so clever, what are you going to do about those two, and the Enterprise?"

"I have no worry about the Enterprise. As long as they no proof of direct Klingon involvement they can do nothing. Even as we speak, Starfleet command is demanding that they leave this planet. Soon enough they will be gone." Krang glared at the Green Hornet and Kato, "As for those two, kill them."

"Is it honorable to kill two unarmed men?" the Green Hornet asked of Grolog.

"What honor do you think is due you?" Grolog demanded, "You who hide behind a mask?"

"If not honor, how about a challenge?"

"What kind of challenge can you offer?"

"One of us versus one of you. You pick the weapons."

"Which of one of you?" Grolog asked, intrigued.

The Green Hornet looked meaningfully at Kato who confidently stepped forward. "Me," he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You, little man?" Grolog said sarcastically. "I could blow you away with a sneeze."

"Try it," Kato challenged. "You might be surprised." Then he added with a broad grin, "Or are you afraid?"

"Hah!" Grolog roared. He snatched one of the bladed weapons off the wall and tossed it to Kato. "This is a bat`leth, a true Klingon weapon of honor." He barked a quick laugh when the much smaller man faltered under the weapon's unexpected weight, but his laughter quickly died in his throat when Kato not only quickly recovered but also began to twirl and swing the weapon around.

"This won't do," Kato finally said, "This thing is only good enough for chopping wood, if that."

"What?" Grolog huffed.

"See for yourself," Kato tossed it back to the Klingon, "It is badly balanced and the steel, or whatever metal that is, is badly pitted and dull. I doubt it could cut paper never mind flesh." He walked to the wall and pulled another bat`leth from the wall. He swung it experimentally. "This is much better," he said.

"So little man, you do know your weapons. Good, now let us see if you can fight as well."

Kato shot a doubtful look at the room around them, "Don't you think we should go outside?" he asked. "There's not enough room in here."

"Of course," Grolog replied expansively. He nodded toward the back door, "There is a courtyard behind this building. I am thinking perhaps I will enjoy this, little man."

"Think you can take him?" the Green Hornet asked Kato in a low voice as they were escorted outside.

"Probably, but whatever happens, at least it's better then being shot outright."

"You got a point there," the Green Hornet admitted.

In the pine-shaded courtyard were several picnic tables, a large fire pit and a swimming pool that had been filled in. Around the swimming pool was a large crowd of men. They seemed to be a mix of Iotians plus the two different races of Klingons. "Got a big audience watching," he observed. "Make it last as long as you can."

"Don't worry, boss. I can handle him," Kato answered confidently.

Grinning crookedly, the Green Hornet replied, "You're not the one I'm worried about. Don't polish him off too quickly. Take your time."

"I will," Kato answered. "According to plan," he added before he joined Grolog in the impromptu arena.

Not knowing the traditional Klingon greeting at the battle of a fight, Kato bowed. He quickly jumped back in surprise, bringing up his weapon just in time to stop Grolog's downward slice. He spun out of the way, again catching Grolog's weapon. The Klingon was surprisingly fast and he could feel the force of Grolog's blows all the way from his arms down to his feet.

He backed away again, trying to get some space, but there was no room. All around them were screaming and roaring men. All of them wanting to see him diced up into tiny little pieces.

Suddenly Grolog stopped his relentless attack. "Stop running away, little man. Stand still so I can kill you," he said with a roaring laugh, "I promise you it will be a quick and clean death."

"I am not ready to die yet," Kato replied. He swung the bat`leth around his body as he twirled it in his hands, then he sent it flying into the air, burying it several inches into the soft sand. Pressing his hands together he bowed to the stunned Klingon. Then he crouched and crooked a finger. Smiling confidently he said, "The first round was yours, the next, and last, will be mine."

Roaring, Grolog charged Kato. Kato's catamount yowl filled the air, rising above the Klingon's battle cry. Kato knelt below the swing of Grolog's bat`leth, burying a knife-like thrust into the Klingon's belly. With a loud woof of exhaled air, Grolog stumbled, but remained standing. He quickly turned like an enraged bull only to be sent pedaling backward by Kato's powerful high kick. Another high kick did not allow him to regain his balance. Grolog swung his weapon even as he fought for footing. A silvered edge caught Kato across the chest leaving behind torn fabric and a thin line of red. Kato leapt back, lightly bouncing on his feet, fingering his nose with a thumb. A wide grin told Grolog that his much smaller opponent was nowhere out of the battle. Again Kato crooked his finger.

This time, instead of charging, Grolog circled around the slight oriental, looking for an opening. Suddenly he swept his weapon low over the ground then upward in an air slicing swing. Kato leapt high then tumbled out of the way, until he was behind the massive Klingon. He caught Grolog in the back of the knee before he could overcome his surprise at not finding Kato where he had expected him to be. Grolog fell heavily, rolling onto his back, but before he could rise, Kato stomped onto his chest with enough force to make black stars appear before his eyes. Kato's yowl mingled with Grolog's roar of anger.

"Do not rise or you will meet an honorable death," Kato hissed as the sharp edge of his bat`leth pricked Grolog's wide throat. "Do you yield?" Kato asked.

Just at the edge of his vision Grolog could see the golden shimmer of Federation transporter beams. There were too many. "I yield," he croaked out.

"No!" Krang screamed, "We will not be defeated!"

As the transporter beams resolved into armed Starfleet security officers, great clouds of dust heralded the arrival of Lorix' and Forlux' men. Grolog pulled wearily pulled himself to his feet, "Look around you. It is over."

Krang shook his head in disbelief, "This cannot be happening." Suddenly he snatched a knife from his belt and charged on the Green Hornet. The beam of a phaser caught him full in the chest, folding him to his knees.

"Thank you, Captain," the Green Hornet said to Kirk.

"No, thank you," Kirk replied. He scanned the assembled mix of Klingons and Cruxon's men. "You've given us the proof we needed."

"I was an innocent dupe," Cruxon protested as an Enterprise crewman brought him forward. "I had no idea they were aliens."

"Dr. McCoy," the Green Hornet said to the doctor, "I suggest you check him out with your tricorder."

McCoy waved his tricorder's handset across the gangster's chest. "Readings all wrong for an Iotian, but," he said, studying Cruxon, "Perfect for a Klingon."

"I think we're going to have a lot of questions for you to answer," Kirk said to Cruxon. He looked at the Green Hornet and Kato, "I can't wait to hear what happened."

"By the way," Scott said, approaching Kato, "I have a wee gift for ye." he said as he handed him the hornet scanner. "I kept it safe for you."

"It was quite clever for you to send it flying to the newspaper so that we would know that you had been attacked," Spock said, "As you had surmised, following the communicator's signal led us directly to the Klingon encampment."

The Green Hornet frowned thoughtfully. "Is that how you tracked us? I thought you had found us by looking for us through the Enterprise's sensors."

"That would have been quite impossible," Spock replied. "It is very difficult to separate terran humans from the Iotians. Their genetic signatures are extremely close."

"But I gave the communicator to Lorix," the Green Hornet said, puzzled.

"Which," Kirk added showing what an Enterprise red-shirt had handed him, "Maxor wound up stealing from him."

The Green Hornet smiled, "Strange how fate works," he remarked.

Later aboard the Enterprise Britt stood again in the transporter room. This time for the last time.

"So," Kirk said, "You've made up your mind. You really want to stay on Iotia then."

"Yes," Britt replied. "Linda says she can use my help around the newspaper." He gave a crooked grin, "Who knows if things work out, we might even start putting it out as a daily."

"Hmm, Daily Sentinel," Kirk mused, "Has a nice ring. I like it."

"So do I," Britt answered.

"And what about the Green Hornet?"

Britt sighed, "Unfortunately, I have a feeling that the Green Hornet will be needed too."

"That's why I'm coming along," Kato said as he entered the transporter room.

"I was wondering if you were coming to see me off," Britt remarked, "What happened to becoming a famous star?" he asked half in jest.

"I've heard it's highly overrated," Kato answered wryly.

"And Alicia?" Britt asked Kato as he joined him on a nearby transporter pod.

"Not my type. Besides after Kirk and the Enterprise came out as heroes on Iotia, her sponsor Crispin has disappeared into the woodwork."

"I guess, then she won't be giving you any more trouble," Britt said to Kirk.

"Not since she's been confined to quarters," Kirk answered, "But that doesn't mean we can relax, at least not until we drop her off at the nearest Starbase."

Britt nodded his understanding. He looked over the people assembled in the room. "Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, Mr. Spock, Mr. Scott, I want to thank you and everyone else on the Enterprise for all that you have done."

Kato nodded his agreement, then Kirk asked, "Ready?"

Both men said as one, "Yes."

"Energize."

**Epilogue**

In the converted carriage house next to the Daily Sentinel, the Black Beauty rose from its underground berth. The dim green lights overhead played over its big grille like water down a waterfall. As it settled into place, the doors on the driver side and the rear passenger side opened in invitation. Kato slid quickly behind the steering wheel.

Linda kissed the Green Hornet goodbye, then said, "Be careful." before they reluctantly parted.

"I always am," he answered before sliding into the back seat.

The Green Hornet pulled the hornet sting out of the weapons locker, flipped the domed end aside. A loud buzzing filled the air. "Hornet Sting, check," he said.

Next he pulled out the Hornet Gas gun, slid out the gas cartridge, checked the level of the fluid inside it, then snapped it back in. "Hornet Gas gun, check."

"Check the Hornet Scanner, Kato," he said.

Kato flipped a set of switches. The scanner rose from its place and gave a soft beeping noise as the light on top of it flashed. "Hornet Scanner, check," he said.

"Let's roll, Kato."

The Black Beauty's engine roared to life as the carriage house's rear wall rose.

_**The Green Hornet, he hunts the biggest of all game...**_


End file.
